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RHETORICAL GRAMMAR; 

Iir WHICH THX 
COMMON IMPROPRIETIBS IN 

READING AND SPEAKING 

AEE DETECTED, 
AMO TBS 

TRUE SOURCES OF ^LEGANT PRONUNCUTION 

ABE POINTED OUT. '^ 

WITH A 

COMPLETE ANALYSIS OF THE VOICE. 

8H0VINO ITS SPECIFIC MODIPICATIOKS, 
AHD BOW TBXT BAY BE APPLUD 

TO DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SENTENCES 

AJTD THE SXTS&AL 

FIGURES OF RHETORIC. 

TO WHICH ARE ADDED 

OUTLINES OF COMPOSITION, 

OB PLAIB BVLBfl 
FOB WBITING OBATIONS AND SPEAKING THEM IN PUBLIC. 



BY JOHN WALKER, 

Author of TIm CiitiMl VmaanOng Dkdonaiyi EleoNiitt of Bloentkniy tee. 
BftniiaAindiccndociiBmqiildimeHiti».--^Ve. Oror. 






SECOHD AHBBICAE EDITION. V ^J^ -p .^ ^^ 

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Dr. SA3ItJEL JOHNSON. 



IF the conferring of benefits be what commonly 
constitutes a patron^ — to students in elocution you are 
the greatest patron in the kingdom. You not only 
first awakened the jiublic to an attention to their Ian* 
guage^ but^ by an Herculean labour, afforded them a 
guide which has conducted them to a thousand im- 
provements. This was sufficient to attract the ad- 
miration and acknowledgments of your country, if 
you had not shown, by your moral and critical writ- 
ings, that, though you were the only person proper 

to to undertake so laborious a task, you were almost the 
CO o> 

»H only one who ought to have been exempted from it. 

^ lO But though I am proud of an opportunity of confessing 

^ £rf ™y obligations to your public labours, I am much 

^ more ambitious of telling the world, that I have 

been long honoured with the friendship and advice of 



iv 



DEDICATIONt 



him whose name will be mentioned among the Lockes^ 
the Newtonsy and the Fenelons, as the friend of reve- 
lation^ and whose life is an indisputable proof of the 
sincerity of his attachment to it 

k 

I am^ siA^ 

With the greatest respect, 

Your obliged 

Humble Servant, 

J. WALKER. 






PREFACE 

TO THE THIRD EDITION. 

The present edition is almost a new work. The 
praxis of sentences^ so arranged as to lead the pupil 
from the easiest to the most difficulty seemed better 
calculated for the lower class of pupils in reading 
than for students in rhetoric^ and therefore this has 
been omitted. The want of rules for composition^ 
so essential in rhetoric, has been supplied from the 
best source — Blair's Lectures : and what was de- 
ficient even in these has been furnished from Pro- 
fessor Ward's Lectures (m Oratory : — ^so that with 
the original matter on the elegant pronunciation of 
words, on accent, emphasis, and inflection of voice, 
and the proper pronunciation of the figures of rhet- 
oric, it is presumed the present work is the moist 
perfect of its kind in the language. 

A powerful motive, indeed, for enlarging the 
Rhetorical Grammar to its present size, was, to 
give a complete idea of the two circumflexes of the 
speaking voice* The two simple inflections, the 
rising and falling, had been several times delineated 
on copper- plates, in Elements of Elocution ; but 
the two complex inflections, called circumflexes, 
though frequently described, had not been marked 
out to the eye ; and these appeared so inseparable 
from the human voice, so new, and of such real 
ntility in teaching to read and speak, that I could 



PREFACE. 



• 



t 



scarcely think I had discharged my duty to my 
country till I bad given these modifications of the 
speaking voice as blear an explanation as I^as able. 
. The sanguine expectations I had once entertain- 
ed^ that this analysis of the human voice would be 
received by the learned with avidity and applause, 
are now over. I have almost worn out a long life 
in laborious exertions ; and, though I have succeed- 
ed beyond expectation in forming readers and 
speakers in the most respectable circles in the three 
kingdoms, yet I h^ve had the mortification to find 
few of my pupils listen to any thing but my pro- 
nunciation. When I have explained to them the 
five modifications of the voice, they have assented 
and admired ; but so difficult did it appear to adopt 
them, especially to those advanced in life, that I was 
generally obliged to follow the old method, (if it 
jnay be called so) ^^ read as I read, without any 
reason for it.'' — But without pretending to the gift 
of prophecy, I think I can foresee, that sopner or 
later these distinctions of the voice must become 
the vehicle of instruction in reading and speaking. 
It is not improbable that the active genius of the 
French, who are so remarkably attentive to their 
language, may first adopt this vehicle ; and if this 
should happen, I hope it will be remembered, that 
an unassisted and unpatronized Englishman was 
the first who discovered and explained it. 



CONTENTS. 

iHTRODUtnON 11 

CH)6ervation8 on some of the Principal Faults in the Pronun- ' 
ciation of the generality of Pupils, with the Methods of cor- 
recting them --17 

Too slightly sounding the Unaccented Vowels - • - 18 
Wavering and uncertain Pronunciation of the Vowels under 

the Secondary Accent --'-.-- £0 

The Liquid Sound of K, C» or G, hard, before the Vowels A 

and I M 

The Liquid Sound of T, D, S, and soft C> after the Accent 

before the Semiconsonant Diphthongs - - - - 24 
Suppressing the Sound of the Final Consonants - <- « 26 
The rough and smooth Sound of R - - - - 28 
Hissing too much the Terminations Hon and sion - - 30 
Prcmouncing S indistinctly after ST - • - - ib. 
Pronouncing W for V, and inversely - - - - 31 

Not sounding H after W 32 

Not sounding H wher^ it ought to be sounded, and inversely S3 
Suppressing E where it should be pronounced^ and pronounc- 
ing it where it should be suppressed .... 34 
Observations on the Pronunciation of certain Words most fre- 
quently mistaken in reading 35 

The true Sound of the Auxiliary Verbs : also, when ed makes 

a distinct Syllable, and when not - • - - ib. 
When you is to be pronounced like ye, and my like me - S7 
When of, for, from, and hy, are to have a long, and when a 

short Sound 40 

How to pronounce the Possessive t^y - - - - 42 
How to pronounce the Adjective Possessive mine - - 45 
The indistinct Sound of the w6rd not - - - - 47 
How to pronounce the Participial Termination ing - - 48 
How to pronounce the Word to when succeeded by you « 49 
Reading defined«-.Its Relation to Speaking - - 50 



• •• 



VIU 0ONTBIIT8. 

Page. 

General Idea of the common Doctrine ol Punctuatioii - 53 

Rhetorical Punctuation 59 

Practical Sjstem of Rhetorical Punctuation - - - 65 

Of Visible Punctuation • . • . . . - ib. 

Rules for Posing -- 68 

TIm principal Pause in the Compact Sentence - - - ib. 

The principal Pause in the Loose Sentence - • - 70 

The sabordhiate Pftose in the Compact Sentence • - 71 

Audible Punctuation 8£ 

Bzplanation of the Inflections of the Voiee - - - 85 

Explanation of Plate the First 87 

The different States of the Voice - - - • - 89 

Practical Sjstem of the Inflections of yoice - - • 91 

Compact Sentence— JMrect Period with Two Conjunctiona ib. 

Direct Period with One Conjunction -^ ... 94 

Inverted Period 97' 

Loose Sentence 98 

Orthoepia] Figures, or Figures of Pronunciation • • • 101 

The Interrogation - - IO2 

The indefinite Question ib. 

The definite Question 104 

Hie Exclamation 106 

The Parenthesis 109 

The Commencement - - - - - - 112 

The Contrast 114 

The Series 116 

The Commencing Series - 118 

The Concluding Series --...• 119 

The Question and Answer ISl 

The Echo 123 

The Antecedent 187 

The Variation - 130 

The Period and the Method of forming a Cadence - 133 

On Accented Force - - 137 

On Emphatic Force 138 

What it is that constitutes Emphasis .... I4l 

On the different Forces of Emphatic Words - - 145 

On the propriety of marking Emphatic Words - - 148 

A method of marking the diftrent ("orces of Words 149 



QOMTXMTa. 1^ 

Ufilitj of underfttanding the different Inflections and differ- 
ent Forces, of Worda J^^ 

Rules for reading Verse ------ 159 

Of the Accent and Emphasis of Verse • - - 162 

When the Poetical Accent is to be preserved, and when not 164 

How e and o, when apostrophised, are to be pronounced 169 

Of the Pause or Cttsura of Verse . - - - iro 

Of the Cadence of Verse ..---- ir2 

How to pronounce a Simile in Poetry - - -. , - ib. 

On Blank Verse 17^8 

Explanation of the figures of Rhetoric,— with Directions for 

the proper Method of pronouncing them - - - 179 

Metaphor - ^^^ 

All^oiy . . - ib. 

Metonymy .-.-----ISS 

Synecdoche -------- 1®^ 

Hyperbole *• 

Catachresis - - - - '^ 

Irony ^ - . - 185 

Ecphonesis ^^^ 

Erotesis - - - 190 

Aparithmesis; or Enumeration, Gradation, and Climax 194 

Epanaphora - ^^^ 

Prolepsis 202 

Synchoresis - - -- - -,- - 204 

Epnnorthosis 206 

Anastrophe 208 

Apostrophe 210 

Asyndeton and Polysyndeton ----- 211 

Enantiosis 215 

Paralepsis ^ - - - 218 

Anaco^nosis 220 

Hypotyposis . - i 222 

Vision 233 

Sinule 236 

Prosopopeeia - - - .... - - 240 

Modulation and Management of the Vmce ... 245 

Instructions for acquiring Low Tones of Voice - - 247 

Ipstructions for acquiring High Tones of Voice - - 248 

h 



X CONTBKTS* 

Instructions for the Management of the Voice - - 249 

Rules for Gesture 253 

On Composition - ^6 

On Style, Perspicuity, and Precision .... 262 

On the Structure of Sentences .... S67 

On the Strength of Sentences ..... 5272 

On the Harmonv of Sentences .... 279 

•I 

The general Characters of Style^Diffuse, concise, &c. 286 

Directions for forming a proper Style .... 292 

Of the Distribution of Oratory .... 395 

Of Invention 304 

Of external Topics - 314 

Of the State of a Controversy 324 

Of Arguments suited to Demonstrative Discourses - 333 

Of Arguments suited to Deliberative Discourses - - 343 

Of Arguments suited to Judicial Discourses - - 351 

Of the Character and address of an Orator ... 362 

Of tlie Passions 370 



INTRODUCTION. 



Rhetoric, op the art of persuasion, is of such 
importance in the great concerns of society, that it 
is not surprising so much has been written on this 
subject in every age and nation, where the arts and 
sciences have been cultivated. The power, of pleas- 
ing and persuading those whom we address has excit- 
ed every faculty in the mind of man, to detect, if pos- 
sible, the secret springs of that pleasure and persua- 
sion, which give us such dominion over the feelings 
of our fellow creatures. 

The ancients have left us everlasting monuments of 
their excellence in this art, and, in their endeavours 
to investigate the principles of it, have descended to 
such niceties as we think childish and insignificant : 
but that branch of oratory which Demosthenes called 
the first, the second, and the third part of it, and 
which was so assiduously cultivated by the ancients 
— that, alas ! perished with them, and left their com- 
positions like a lifeless corpse, beautiful in death, but 
deprived of all that vigour and energy, which agitated 
and astonished their wondering auditors. We hear 



Xll INTR0DUCTI6N. 

at this distance but a faint echo of that thunder in 
Demosthenes^ which shook the throne of Macedon to 
its foundations^ and are sometimes at a loss for that 
conviction in the arguments of Cicero^ which balanced^ 
in the midst of convulsions^ the tottering republic of 
Rome. 

This part of rhetoric^ which consists in pronuncia- 
tion and action^ and which may be called the soul of 
oratory^ is^ from its very nature^ less capable of being* 
communicated by writing, and has therefore been less 
improved by the joint labours of succeeding ages; 
and thus, while invention, disposition, and elocution^ 
in the ancient sense of the word, have been cultivated 
by the modems to the highest degree of perfection^ 
pronunciation or delivery has scarcely attained medi- 
ocrity. The importance, however, of this part of 
oratory has induced several ingenious men to give the 
outlines of it upon paper, and to describe, as well as 
they were able, those variations of voice, which the 
various structure and import of a sentence seemed to 
require. Numberless have been the attempts to mark 
to the eye some of those modifications of tone and in- 
flection, which form the essence of a good enunciation* 
Pauses, dashes, and notes of interrogation, exclama- 
tion, and parentheses, are but so many attempts to fa* 
cilitate the delivery of written language, and, if prop- 
erly adapted, have undoubtedly a considerable use* 
Nay, marking the emphatic words in a different char- . 
acter is sometimes found highly advantageous; but 



INTRODUCTION. XIU 

the most simple, the most marking, and the most use- 
ful method of all, seems hitherto to have been entirely 
neglected, — and that is distinguishing the speaking 
Toice into its two essential turns or inflections, the ris- 
ing and the falling. This neglect is the more remark- 
able, as the want of some such distinction of the voice 
has unquestionably been the occasion, that so little 
progress has been made in conveying the art of speak- 
ing upon paper, and teaching it by rules. 

Almost all our writers on this subject, after giving 
rules for pausing, tell us there are certain tones and 
inflections of voice, which are of much more impor- 
tance to the meaning of the words we read than the 
points we make use of, however judiciously adapted. 
But here they generally leave us. The interrogation 
and exclamation points, indeed^ are said not only to 
require suitable pauses, but likewise an elevation of 
voice, and the parenthesis a moderate depression of 
it. Mr. Perry, in his English Grammar, has gone 
so far as to tell us, that the interrogation, when it does 
not begin with the relative, whoy whtch^ or what, or 
the adverbs how^ wherCj wheUy &c. requires an eleva- 
tion of voice ; and an old writer, Charles Butler, of 
Magdalen college, Oxford, has in his English Gram- 
mar gone one step farther, and told us, that this spe- 
cies of interrogation not only requires an elevation 
but a different turn of voice. Here was a hint which 
one would have imagined would have set some gram- 
jmarian at work to inquire what this turn of voice 



aav INTRODUCTIOK* 

was : but more than a hundred years passed without 
any such inquiry ; till the author of the present work| 
about twenty years ago^ when he was preparing to 
give lessons at Oxford, and trying every method to 
gain some permament modifications of the speaking 
voice, in order to forkn some certain rules for reading 
or adapting the voice to the structure and meaning of 
a sentence, observed, that every word had necessarily 
either an upward or a downward turn, or continued 
in a monotone. This distinction he thought of such 
importance as to make him hope it might attract the . 
notice of the public ; and he accordingly introduced 
it, in a work called Elements of Elocution^ but found 
no notice taken of it, till within these last three or 
four years, and then very imperfectly. About ten 
years ago he observed, that these two turns, the up- 
ward and the downward, were sometimes united on 
the same syllable, or, as it may be called, in the same 
explosion of voice, and formed a compound turn, eith- 
er beginning with the upward and ending with the 
downward, or vice versa j and these compound turns he 
called circumflexes. Here he began to flatter himself 
that he had made a discovery, and found means to 
bind that varying Proteus, the speaking voice ; as he 
conceived that there was no tortuous or zigzag turn 
in speaking which might not be reduced to one of 
these modifications, and, consequently, that he had 
some permanent data on which to found a system of 
rhetorical pronunciation. 



I INTBODUCTION. XV 

It is to the novelty and utility of this distinction 
that the author claims the attention of the public. 
Se has already written largely on it^ but has still 
something to add. By the blessing of Providence he 
has lived long enough to see the truth of his princi- 
ples universally assented to^ and^ in some instances^ 
adopted in practice. The utility of them he is fu]ly 
persuaded of by a thousand experiments j but of this 
the public at large are undoubtedly the best judges. 



BHETOBICAL GRAMMAR. 



That part of rhetorick, which relates to composi- 
tioB^ has heen so elaborately treated both by the an- 
cients and modems^ that I shall in some measure 
invert the common order, and at first chiefly confine 
myself to that branch of it^ which relates to pronun- 
ciation and delivery. Preparatory to this it will 
be necessary to settle the pronunciation of several 
letters^ syllables^ and words, which are not only often 
mispronounced by the younger class of pupils, but 
which are frequently little understood by those, who 
are more advanced in the art Without quoting 
duintillian, we may easily conclude, that, if these first 
principles of speaking are not distinctly and accurate- 
ly learned, whatever we may acquire afterward must 
be faulty and erroneous. I shall therefore begin 
with settling the true pronunciation of those letters, 
syllables, and words, which are the most liable to be 
mistaken by the generality of readers and speakers. 

OBSERVATIONS ON SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL FAULTS IN 
THE PRONUNCIATION OF THE GENERALITY OF PU- 
PILS, WITH THE METHODS OF CORRECTING THEM. 

Too slightly sounding the accented vowels. 

One of the most general faults in reading is a slight, 
short, mincing pronunciation of the accented vowels. 

3 



18 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

This produces a harsh^ insignificant^ and trifling 
sound of the words^ instead of that bold^ round, mel- 
low tone^ which ought to be considered as the basis of 
speaking. The vowels, which ought most to be at- 
tended to, are the a and q. E is the slenderest of all 
the vowels, and i and u are diphthongs, which terminate 
in slender sounds, and do not afford a sufficient quan- 
tity of sound to gratify and fill the ear ; but the a in 
all its three sounds, in hare^ bar^ and war; fatcd^f other ^ 
and water; has a bold, full sound, which the ear 
dwells upon with pleasure. The sound of o likewise, 
when lengthened by e final, as in tone, or ending a 
syllable, as in nohle^ Sec. may be prolonged with 
great satisfaction to the ear ; and it is to a judicious 
prolongation of the sound of these vowels, that pro- 
nunciation owes one of its greatest beauties. Words 
of this kind should therefore be selected and pronounc- 
ed, first by the teacher, and afterward by the pupil, 
slowly and distinctly. 

Too slightly sounding Hie unaccented vowels. 

There is an incorrect pronunciation of the letter Uy 
when it ends a syllable not under the accent, which 
not only prevails among the vulgar, but is sometimes 
found in better company ; and that is, giving the u 
an obscure sound, which confounds it with vowels of 
a very different kind. Thus we not unfrequently 
hear singular^ regular^ and particular^ pronounced as 
if written sing-e-lar^ reg-e-lar^ and par-tick-e-lar ; but 
nothing tends more to impoverish and vulgarise the 
pronunciation, than this short and obscure sound of the 
unaccented u. It may, indeed, be observed, that 
there is scarcely any thing more distinguishes a per- 
son of a mean from one of a good education, than the 



N 



/ 



RHETORICAL SRAMMAR. 19 

pronunciation of the unaccented vowels. When vow- 
els are under the accent, the prince and the lowest ot 
the people^ with very few exceptions^ pronounce them 
in the same manner : but the unaccented vowels^ in 
the mouth of the former, have a distinct^ open, and 
specific sound; while the latter often totally sink 
them, or change them into some other sound. Those, 
therefore^ who wish to pronounce elegantly, must be 
particularly attentive to the unaccented vowels, as a 
neat pronunciation of these forms one of the greatest 
beauties of speaking. 

The other vowels, when unaccented, are liable to 
nearly the same indistinctness and obscurity as the u. 
The first e in events the first o in apiniany and the i 
in sensible^ terrAlSf &c. are apt to go into an obscure 
sounds approaching to short u^ as if written uwent 
nppinian, sensubble^ terrubble, &c. while polite pro- 
nunciation, that is the least deliberate, requires these 
vowels to be heard nearly as distinctly, and with as 
much purity, as when under the accent. Thus the e in 
event should be pronounced nearly as e in equal ; the 
o in opiniariy as that in open ; the i in the unaccented 
terminations ible^ ity^ and at the end of other syllables 
not under the accent, ought to have the sound of €, 
and this sound to be preserved distinct and pure, as 
if written sen-se-bU^ ter-re-ble^ de-veT'Se-ty^ u-ne-ver'se- 
tyy &c. : nay, so strong a tendency has a good speaker 
to open the vowels e and Oy when ending a syllable 
immediately before the accent, that we frequently 
hear these vowels in the words effect,, efface^ occasion, 
offence, &c. pronounced as if the consonant were sin- 
gle : this is certainly a deviation from rule, but it is 
so general among polite speakers^ and so agreeable 



20 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

to the ear, as to be a distinguishing mark of el^^t 
pronunciation. For the sound of unaccented a, of e 
before r, and iy when it has the diphthongal sound like 
eyCf see Critical Pronouncing Dictionary, in the 
principles prefixed, at Nos. 92, 98, 114, 115, &c. 
554. 

Wavering and uncertain pronunciation of vowels 
under the secondary accent. 

The secondary accent is that stress we may occa- 
sionally place upon another syllable, beside that 
which has the principal accent, in order to pronounce 
every part of the word more distinctly, forcibly, and 
harmoniously. Thus this accent is on the first syl- 
lable of conversation, commendation, and the principal 
accent on the third. But from a want of attending 
to the analogies of the language, our best orthoepists 
have been at the greatest loss for the quantity of the 
vowel under the secondary accent, when followed by 
a single consonant. This may be seen at large in 
Principles prefixed to the Critical Pronouncing Dic- 
tionary, No. 530, &c. It will be only necessary to 
observe here, that those polysyllables, which have the 
principal accent on the third syllable, whether we 
place a secondary accent on the ^rst syllable or not, 
have every yowel, except w, in that syllable, unless 
an inverted diphthong succeed, invariably short. Thus 
the in the first syllable of propositionj provocation^ 
profanation, the a in the first of lamentation, the e in 
demonstration, and the i in the first of diminution, are 
all short : but if an inverted diphthong succeed the 
first syllable, every vowel except t retains its open 
sound, as amiability j deviation^ filiation, spoliation, du- 



BHETORICAL GRAHMAB. 21 

bkmiyf &p. Where it may be observed that the u 
is always pronounced long and open^ though under 
the secondary accent^ as lucubration, cumulation, &c. 
There is the greater necessity for the observation 
of this rule, as it tends to give a firmness and decis- 
ion to a part of pronunciation, which is very loosely 
and variously marked in most of our pronouncing 
dictionaries. A vague idea of the propriety of pre- 
serving the simple in the compound, and of distin- 
guishing the inseparable preposition from the rest 
of the word, makes many, who are but superficially 
acquainted with the analogies of the language, wil- 
ling to show their precision by pronouncing the o in 
proposition as open as that in propose^ and the e in 
preparation like that in prepare ; but a larger view of 
the language would have shown these critics, this 
would be to overturn the most settled analogies of 
pronunciation* If we attend to those sounds which 
the English ear has almost universally received and 
acknowledged, we shall find the result to be this 
general rule. When a penultimate vowel, with the 
accent upon it, ends a syllable, before a single con- 
sonant, that vowel is long and open, as paper, decent, 
sUence, local, lucid, &c. — but when any antepenulti- 
mate vowel, except u, is under the same predicament^ 
it is short, as fabulous, delicate, diligence, providence, 
luculent. This genuine analogy of English pronun- 
ciation has been crossed and counteracted by an affec- 
tation of reducing our quantity to that of the Latin ; 
but, though this pedantry has prevailed in words of 
two syllables, where, to the great injury of the sound 
of our language, it has reduced long vowels to short 
ones, it has made little alteration in polysyllables. 



^ RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

where we find the antepenultimate^ or preantepenulti- 
mate, accent still preserves its shortening power^ not^ 
withstanding the attempts of some speakers to pro- 
nounce the first e in kgishOure, and the first o in prop- 
ositioriy long. An Englishman^ therefore^ who wishes 
to follow that path^ which nature (or^ which is nearly 
the same^ unpremeditated custom) has chalked out^ 
wilU as far as polite usage will permit him^ pronounce 
the penultimate vowel long and open^ and the antepe- 
nultimate short and shut. Thus a proper mixture of 
long and short vowels will be preserved^ and the ear 
be indulged in that vernacular propensity^ which na- 
ture seems to have given it. 

See this explained at large in Principles of Eng- 
lish Pronunciation, prefixed to the Critical Pro- 
nouncing Dictionary, Nos. 544, 545, &c. and Key to 
the Classical Pronunciation of Greek and Latin Prop- 
er Names, page xxv, No* 18, &c. 

Liquid sound of K^ Cy or G hardj before ilie voweh 

A and I. 

There is a fluent liquid sound of these consonants 
before the two vowels a and i, which gives a smooth 
and elegant sound to the words in which they occur, 
and which distinguishes the polite pronunciation of 
London from that of every other part of the island. 
This pronunciation is nearly as if the a and i were 
preceded by e. Thus, kind is sounded as if written 
ke-ind; card^ as ke-ard; and regaid^ as re-ge-ard. 
When these vowels are pronounced short, as in cab- 
bage^ gander^ kindle^ &c. the interposition of the 
sound of e is very perceptible, and indeed unavoida- 
ble ; for though we can pronounce guard, cart, and 



BHETORICAL GKAMMAR. 'US 

kindj without interposing the e, we cannot pronounce 
carriage^ garrison^ and kindred in the same manner. 
The words that require this liquid sound in the k^ 
Cy and g hard^ are but few. Sky, kind, guidcj gird, 
girt, girly guise^ guikj card^ cart, carp, carpenter, car- 
pet, carve, carbuncle, earned, cartridge, guard, and 
regard ;--«these and their compounds are perhaps the 
only words where this sound occurs ; but these words 
are so much in use as to be sufficient to mark a speak- 
er as either coarse or elegant^ as be adopts or neg^ 
lects it. 

This sound is taken notice of by Steele in his £ng« 
lish Grammar^ p. 49^ so long ago as the reign of queen 
Anne : but he ascribes it to the consonant's being fol- 
lowed by a palative vowel^ as he calls the a in can, 
the e in gety and the i in begin, which he says ^^ are 
sounded as if written cyan, gyet, begyin, &c. because 
the tongue can scarce pass from these guttural conso- 
nants to form the palative vowels, but it must pro- 
nounce y; but it is not so before the other vowels^ as in 
call, gall, go, gun, goose, come, &c.'' This observation 
of Steele's goes no farther than to such words as can- 
not possibly be pronounced without the intervention 
of the e or y sound ; but to this it may be added, that 
though such words as have the long sound of the a in 
father, or the same long sound heard before r finals 
or followed by another consonant in the same syllable 
as car, card, regard ; or such words as have the long i, 
or the short i followed by r, as kirk, gird, girl ; — I say 
though these words may be pronounced without the 
intervention of e or y, yet with it they are not only 
more mellow and fluent^ but infinitely more elegant 
and fashionable. 



S4 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

At first sight we are surprised that two such diffe- 
rent letters as a and i should be affected in the same 
manner by the hard gutturals^ g^ c, and k ; but when 
we reflect that i is really composed of a and e, our 
surprise ceases ; and we are pleased to find the ear 
perfectly uniform in its procedure, and entirely unbi- 
assed by the eye. From this view of the analogy, 
we may see how much mistaken is a very solid and 
ingenious writer on this subject, who says, that '^ky-ind 
for kind is a monster of pronunciation, heard only on 
our stage.'^ Nare's Orthoopy, p, 28. See Critical 
Pronouncing Dictionary, under the word Guilt. 

The liquid sound of T, Z), S, and soft C, after the 
accent^ and before the semiconsonant diphthongs. 

Nothing can be better established in the genuine 
pronunciation of our language, than the liquid sibila- 
tion of these consonants, when the accent comes before 
them, and the inverted diphthongs succeed. This is 
evident in the numerous terminations in tion^sion^cion; 
and if we had words ending in dion^ it is not to be 
doubted but that they would flow into the same cur- 
rent of sound. 

The general ear, true to analogy, melts these con- 
eonants into the soft hiss before the long u ; for though 
apparently a single letter, it is composed of e oOf or 
rather y oo^ and is therefore not only not a pure vow- 
el, but a semiconsonant diphthong, exactly in sound 
like the pronoun you. Hence we hear polite speak- 
ers always pronounce educate^ as if written edj'ucate ; 
virtue as verchew ; verdure as verjure ; and if the gen- 
eral ear were not corrupted by being corrected, we 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 25 

should in the same analogy hear Indian pronounced 
Injian ; odious^ ojeous ; aad insidious^ insidjeous. In 
this pronunciation of these words^ the speaker has 
always the strongest analogy on his side ; but he 
ought to avoid sinking the iy and reducing Indian into 
two syllables^ as if written In-jan ; odious as o-jus ; 
and insidious as insid-jus. The i ought to be heard 
distinctly like e in these words^ as if written and divid- 
ed into In-je-an^ o-je-usj insid-je-ous^ fcc. 

For want of attending to this evident analogy^ there 
are few English words more frequently mispronounced 
than the word pronunciation. A mere English schol- 
ar, who considers the word to pronounce as the root 
of it, cannot easily conceive why the o is thrown out 
of the second syllable ; and therefore, to correct the 
mistake, sounds the word as if written proaounciation. 
Those, who are sufficiently learned to escape this 
errour, by understanding that the word comes to us 
either from the Latin pronunciation or the French 
prononciaiiony are very apt to fall into another, by 
sinking the first aspiration, and pronouncing the 
third syllable like the noun sea. But these speakers 
ought to take notice, that, throughout the whole lan- 
guage, c, 5, and /, preceded by the accent, either 
primary or secondary, and followed by ea^ ia^ io, or 
any similar diphthong, always become aspirated, and 
are pronounced as if written she. Thus the very 
same reasons that oblige us to pronounce partiality^ 
propitiation^ especially, &c. as if written parsheality, 
propisheation, espesheally, &c. oblige us to pronounce 
pronunciation as if written pronunsheashun. See 
Principles prefixed to the Critical Pronouncing Dic- 
tionary, Nos. 357^ 450, 461, and the word Ecclesi- 

4 



36 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ASTiCK. We may conclude by observing^ that this 
liquid sound of these letters is no fanciful departure 
from true orthography^ but is the genuine and spon- 
taneous production of the national ear ; and as it tends 
to give a mellow flow of sound to a considerable part 
of the language^ it should certainly not be discour- 
aged. 

In this word, and some of the other examples, it 
may be noted, that the secondary accent operates on 
these letters exactly in the same manner as the prima- 
ry ; and that as the secondary accent is before the 
day it makes it she-a, as much as the primary before 
tion makes it shtm. 

&ippr€ssing the sound of the final consonants. 

One great cause of indistinctness in reading is 
sinking the sound of some of the final consonants, 
when they are followed by words beginning with 
vowels, and of some when the next word begins with 
a consonant. Thus the word and is frequently pro- 
nounced like the article an^ both before a vowel and 
a consonant, as both men and money are wanting to 
carry on the war; where we hc{>r this sentence as if 
written, both men an money are wanting to carry 
on the war. The suppression of d in this case is, 
however, much more tolerable than when it is follow- 
ed by a vowel, and pfirticularly the' vowel a, followed 
by n ; for in this position there is not only a disagree- 
able repetition of the same sound, but, in some meas- 
ure, a confusion in the sense. Thus we often hear 
that a subject is carried on by question and answer, as 
if written, a subject is carried on by question an a/i- 
swer ; and he made his meal of an apple and an egg. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



27 



as if written^ he rnade his meal of an apple an an egg. 
So that it ought to be made a general rule always to 
pronounce the d in and^ when a vowel begins the 
next word^ and particularly when that word begins 
with an. 

The sound of f when final, is liable to the same 
suppression^ when a consonant begins the succeeding 
word; and particularly the th. Nothing is more com- 
mon thai\ to hear the want of men is occasioned by 
the want of money, pronounced the want o^men is oc- 
casioned by the want o^money ; and, I spoke of the man 
who told me of the tvoman you mentioned^ as if written 
1 spoke oUhe man who told me oHhe woman you men- 
tioned. 

It may, however, be observed in mitigation of this, 
that where there is no pause between words, the last 
consonant of one word, and the first of another word, 
are very apt to coalesce, like double consonants, 
which are really double only to the eye ; but when 
there is a perceptible pause at the end of a sentence, 
or member of sentence, the final consonant ought then 
to be pronounced distinctly ; and instead of letting 
the organs remain on the last letter till the sound 
dies, they ought to be smartly separated by sounding 
what the French call the mute e after the final con- 
sonant. All the mute consonants are liable to this 
imperfect pronUbciation, but it is in none more per- 
ceptible than in words ending with t or dj especially 
if preceded by another consonant. Thus if I say, 
/ took down my hat, but before I had put it on my head, 
Mr. Johnson came into the room, and let the tongue 
remain on the palate on the t and d^ at the end of 
the words hat and heady they want much of that ar- 



ISS RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ticulation they would bave^ if the tongue were smartly 
separated by a rebound^ as it were, from the palate, 
and the mute e pronounced after them somewhat as if 
spelled in this manner x I took down my hat-te^ but 
before I had put it on my head-de, Mr. Johnson came 
into the room. 

The same want of articulation may be perceived 
in the following sentence, if the tongue be suiFered to 
remain too long on the palate on the consonants at the 
end of the words in the following sentence : he re- 
ceived the ivhok of the rent^ before he parted with the 
land : and the superior distinctness of pronouncing 
it with the t and d, finished by a smart separation of 
the organs, and somewhat as if written he received-de 
the whole of the rent-te^ before he parte-de with the 
lan-de. The judicious reader will observe that this 
rule must be followed with discretion, and that the 
final consonant must not be so pronounced as to form 
a distinct syllable ; this would be to commit a greater 
errour than that which it was intended to prevent ; but 
as it may with confidence be asserted, that audibility 
depends chiefly on articulation, so it may be affirmed 
that articulation depends much on the distinctness, 
with which we hear the final consonants ; and trifling 
therefore as these observations may appear at first 
sight, when we consider the importance of audibility, 
we shall not think any thing that conduces to such an 
object below our notice. 

The rough and smooth sound of J?. 

Scarcely any letter is more difficult to pronounce 
with propriety than the r. What forms great part of 
the peculiarity of the Irish accent, as it is called, ia 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ' 2$ 

the rough and harsh pronunciation of this tetter ; and 
the soft^ smooth^ or rather inarticulate sound of it^ 
marks a striking singularity of what is called the 
cockney pronunciation, or the pronunciation of the 
eomtnon people of London ; so that the true sound of 
this letter seems to lie in the medium between these 
extremes. 

But first it will be necessary to observe, what I 
have never found noticed by any of our orthoepists, 
that as the Greek and some other languages have a 
rough and a smooth, or a harsh and a soft r, so has 
the English, and that each of these are proper in cer- 
tain situations. The rough r is formed by jarring 
the tip of the tongue against the roof of the mouth, 
near the fore-teeth ; the smooth r is a vibi*ation of the 
lower part of the tongue, near the root, against the 
inward region of the palate, as close to each other as 
possible, without coming into contact. The first r is 
proper at the beginning of words, and the second at 
the end of words, or when succeeded by a consonant. 
In England, and particularly in London, the r in bar, 
bard, cardy regard, &c. is pronounced so much in the 
throat as be to little more than the middle or Italian 
a, heard m father ^ as if written 6aa, baad, caad, regaad; 
while in Ireland the r, in these words, is pronounced 
with so strong a jar of the tongue against the fore-part 
of the palate, and accompanied with such an aspira- 
tion or strong breathing at the beginning of the letter, 
as to produce that harshness we call the Irish accent. 
But if this letter is too forcibly pronounced in Ireland, 
it is often too feebly sounded in England, and partic- 
ularly in London, where it is sometimes entirely sunk ; 
and it may, perhaps, be worthy of observation, that 



30 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

provided we avoid a too forcible pronunciation of the 
Ty when it ends a word^ or is followed by a consonant 
in the same syllable, we may give as much force as 
we please to this Jetter at the beginning of a word^ 
without producing any harshness to the ear. Thus, 
RomCy river, rage, may have the r as forcible as in 
Ireland ; but bar, bard, card, regard, Sec. must have it 
nearly as soft as in London. This letter, therefore, 
forms an exception to the foregoing rule. 

Hissing too much the terminations tion, sion, &c. 

There is a vicious manner of pronouncing these 
terminations, by giving them a sharp hiss, which 
crushes the consonants together, and totally excludes 
the vowels, as if the words nation, occasion, &c. were 
written na-shn^ occa-zhn^ &c. As words of these ter- 
minations are very numerous in the language, any 
improper mode of sounding them must tarnish the 
whole pronunciation, and therefore ought to be most 
carefully guarded against. These terminations, 
therefore, ought to be pronounced as distinctly as if 
written, nashun, occazhun^ &c. The diphthong to, for 
want of the accent, is sunk into that sound, which is 
annexed to the o in the last syllable of honour, favour^ 
terrour, &c. which can be classed with nothing so 
much related to it as short u. 

Pronouncing s indistinctly after st. 

The letter s after stj from the very difficulty of its 
pronunciation, is often sounded inarticulately. The 
inhabitants of London of the lower order cut the knot, 
and pronounce it in a distinct syllable, as if « were be* 



RHETORIC AI. GRAMMAR. 31 

fbre it ; but this is to be avoided as the greatest 
blemish in speaking : the three last letters in posts^ 
fists, mists, &c. must all be distinctly heard in one 
syllable^ and without either permitting the letters to 
coalesce^ as if written pose, jiss, miss, &c. or suiFering 
the ts to make a distinct syllable, like the vulgar of 
London, as if written pos-tes, jis-tes, mis-tes^ 8cc. but 
letting the t be heard, however feebly, yet distinctly 
between the two hissing letters. For the acquiring of 
this sound, it will be proper to select nouns that end 
in st or ste ; to form them into plurals, and pronounce 
them forcibly and distinctly every day. The same 
may be observed of the third person of verbs ending 
in sis or stes, as persists^ wastes^ pastes, &c. 

Pronouncing wfor v, and inversely. 

The pronunciation of v for w, and more frequently 
fif w for V, among the inhabitants of London, and 
those not always of the lower order, is a -blemish of 
the first magnitude. The difficulty of remedying this 
defect is the greater, as the cure of one of these mis- 
takes has a tendency to promote the other. 

Thus, if you are very careful to make a pupil pro- 
nounce vealy and vinegar^ not as if written weal and 
winegar, you will find him very apt to pronounce wine 
and wind, as if written vine and yind. The only 
method of rectifying this habit seems to be this. Let 
the pupil select from a dictionary, not only, all the 
words that begin with v, but as many as he can of 
those that have this letter in any other part. Let 
him be told to bite his under lip while he is sounding 
the V in those words, and to practise this every day 
till he pronounces the v properly at first sight : then, 



33 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

and not till then^ let him pursue the same method with 
the w ; which he must be directed to pronounce by a 
pouting out of the lips without suffering them to touch 
the teeth. Thus, by giving all the attention to only 
one of these letters at a time, and fixing by habit the 
true sound of that, we shall at last find both of them 
reduced to their proper pronunciation, in a shorter 
time than by endeavouring to rectify them both at 
once. 

Not soundiftg h ct/ier w. 

The aspirate h is often sunk, particularly in the 
capital, where we do not find the least distinction of 
sound between while and toiley whet and wety where and 
were, &c. Trifling as this difference may appear at 
first sight, it tends greatly to weaken and impov- 
erish the pronunciation, as well as sometimes to con- 
found words of a very different meaning. The best 
method to rectify this is, to collect all the words of 
this description from a dictionary, and write them 
down ;. and instead of the wh^ to begin them with hoo 
in a distinct syllable, and so to pronounce them. 
Thus let while be written and sound hoo-ile ; whet, 
hoo-et; where, hoo-are; whip, hoo-ip; &c. This is 
no more, as Dr. Lowth observes, than placing the 
aspirate in its true position, before the u;, as it is in 
the Saxon, which the words come from ; where we 
may observe, that, though we have altered the or- 
thography of our ancestors, we have still preserved 
their prounciation. 



BHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 33 



Not sounding h where it ought to be sounded^ and 

inversely. 

A still worse habit than the last prevails, chiefly 
among the people of London, that of sinking the h 
at the beginning of words, where it ought to be sound- 
ed, and of sounding it, either where it is not seen, or 
where it ought to be sunk. Thus we not unfrequently 
hear, especially among children, heart pronounced art, 
and armj harm. This is a vice perfectly similar to 
that of pronouncing the v for the w^ and the w for the 
Tj and requires a similar method to correct it 

As there are but so very few words in the language 
where the initial h is sunk, we may select these from 
the rest ; and, without setting the pupil right when 
he mispronounces these, or when he prefixes the h im- 
properly to othiir words, we may make him pronounce 
all the words where h is sounded, till he has almost 
forgot there are any words pronounced otherwise. 
Then he may go over those words to which he improp- 
erly prefixes the A, and those where the h is seen, but 
not spunded, without any danger of an interchange. 
As these latter words are but few, I shall subjoin a 
catalogue of them for the use of the learner. Heir^ 
heiressj herb, herbage, honest, honesty, honestly, honour, 
honourable, honourably, hospital, hostler, hour, hourly, 
humble, humbly, humbles, humour, humorist, humor- 
ous, humorously, humorsome : where we may ob- 
serve, that humour and its compounds not only sink 
the h, but sound the u like the pronoun you or the noun 
yct£?, as if written yetvmour, yewmorous, &c. 

5 



34 AHJBTORIOAL QRAIOIAK. 

Suppressing e where it should be pronounced^ and 
pronouncing it where it should be suppressed. 

The vowel e before I and n in a final unaccented 
syllable^ by its being sometimes suppressed and some- 
times not^ forms one of the most puzzling difficulties 
in teaching young people to read. When any of the 
liquids precede these letters^ the e is heard distinctly^ 
as woollen^jlannelj womenj syren ; but when any of the 
other consonants come before these letters^ the e is 
sometimes heard^ as in novels sudden : and sometimes 
not, as in swivel, sadden, &c« As no other rule can be 
given for this variety of pronunciation^ perhaps the 
best way will be to draw the line between those words 
where e is pronounced, and those where it is not ; and 
this, by the help of the Rhyming Dictionary, I am 
easily enabled to do. In the first place^ then^ it may 
be observed, that e before /, in a finaVunaccented syl- 
lable, must always be pronounced distinctly, except 
in the following words : shekelj weasel, ousel, nousel, 
(better written nuzzle,) navel, ravel, snivel, rivel, drivel, 
shrivel, shovel, grovel, hazel, drazel, nozeL These 
words are pronounced as if the e were omitted *by an 
apostrophe, as shekel, weazH, ousH, &C or rather as if 
written, shekle, weazle, ouzle, &c. — ^but as these are the 
only words of this termination that are so pronounced^ 
great care must be taken that children do not pronounce 
travel, gravel, rebel, (the substantive^) parcel, chapel, 
vessel, in the same manner ; a fault to which they are 
very liable. 

E before n, in a final unaccented syllable, and not 
preceded by a liquid^ must always be suppressed^ ex- 



. EEETORICAL OltAllMAR. 35 

cept ill the following words : sudden, mynchen, kitchen^ 
hyphen, chicken^ iicken,{h^Vitv written ticking,) jerken, 
aspen, platen, paten, marten, latten, patten, leaven, or 
leven, sloven. In these words the e is heard distinctly^ 
contrary to the general rule^ which suppresses the e 
in these syllables^ when preceded by a mute^ as har- 
den, heathen, heaven, as if written harden, heathen, 
' heaven, &c ; nay even when preceded by a liquid in the 
words faUen and stolen^ where the e is suppressed^ as 
if they were written faWn and stoPn : garden and 
burden, therefore^ are very analogically pronounced 
garden and burden, and this pronunciation ought the 
rather to be indulged^ as we always hear the e sup- 
pressed in gardener and burdensome, as if written 
gardener and burdensome. 

This diversity in the pronunciation of these termi- 
nations ought the more carefully to be attended to^ as 
nothing is so vulgar and childish as to hear sudvel and 
heaven pronounced with the e distinctly^ oi; novel and 
chicken with the e suppressed. To these observations 
we may add^ that though evU and devU suppress the 
i, as if written evH and dev% yet that cavil and pencil 
preserve the sound of i distinctly ; and that latin ought 
never to be pronounced^ as it is generaUy at schools^ 
as if written lat'^n. 

OBSEBVATIONS ON THE PBONUNCIATION OP CERTAIN 
WORDS MOST FREQUENTLY MISTAKEN IN READING. 

7%€ true sound of the auxiliary verbs ; also when ed 
makes an additional syllable, and when not. 

The auxiliary verbs^ shaU, wotdd, could, should, are, 
and have, shoRld never be pronounced shawU, wold, 



36 RHETOKICAL GRAMMAR. 

cold, sholdj air, and halve, but shed, wood, cood, shoodi 
arr, and havv.^ 

The particular termination ed must never be pro- 
nounced as a distinct syllable^ unless preceded by 
d or t^ except in the language of scripture. One dis- 
tinction indeed seems to have obtained between some 
adjectives and participles^ which is^ pronouncing the ed 
in an additional syllable in the former^ and sinking 
it in the latter. , Thus when learned, cursed, blessed, 
and win^edy are adjectives, the ed is invariably pro- 
nounced as a distinct syllable; but when participles, 
as learned, cursed, blessed, and rving^d, the ed does not 
form an additional syllable. Poetry, however, as- 
sumes the privilege of using these adjectives either 
way, but correct prose rigidly exacts the pronuncia- 
tion of ed in these words, when adjectives, as a dis- 
tinct syllable. The ed in aged always makes a dis- 
tinct syllable, as an aged man ; but when this word is 
compounded with another, the ed does not form a 

syllable, as a futt-ag^d horse. 

It is perhaps worthy of notice, that when adjectives 
are changed into adverbs, by the addition of the ter- 
mination Ijfy we often find the participle ed preserved 
long and distinct ; even in those very words where it 
was contracted when used adjectively. Thus, though 
we always hear confessed, prqfess'^d, designed, &c. we 
as constantly hear con-fess-ed-lyyprO'fesS'ed'ly, de-signr 
ed4y, &c. The same may be observed of the foUow- 

* The auxiliary verbs are as irregular in their pronunciation as in their 
form ; and recur so often in forming the moods and tenses of other verbs, 
that too great care cannot be taken to pronounce them exactly right. For 
this purpose it would be a useful exercise, to make the pupil frequentlv con- 
jugate the two auxiliary verbs ore and h4n?e through all their moods and 
tenses ; taking particular care, that are is pronounced like the first syllable 
of ar-deni ; httpe with the a short as in the first syllable of tae-em ; and shali, 
exactly a3 the first syllable of Aal'hw. 



BBETOBICAL GRAMMAR. 37 

iiig list of words^ which^ by the assistance of the 
Rhyming Dictionary^ I am enabled to give, as the on- 
ly words in the language, in which the ed is pronounced 
as a distinct syllable in the adverb, where it is con- 
tracted in the participial adjective. Forcedly, enforced- 
kf, unveUedly, deformedlyjfeignedlyj unfeignedly, design- 
edly, resignedly, restrainedly, refinedly, unconcernedly, 
undisceraedly, preparedly, assuredly, advisedly, com- 
posedly, dispersedly, diffusedly, confusedly, unperceiv- 
edly, resolvedly, deservedly, undeservedly, reservedly, un- 
reservedly 9 av&wedly, perplexedly, fixedly, amazedly,fork- 
edly. 

When you is to be pronounced like ye ; and my, like 

me, ^. 

Another very common erronr in reading arises from 
pronouncing the personal pronoun you in the same man^ 
Ber, whethtii|||L is in the nominative or the oblique 
case ; or, in other words, whether it is the principal or the 
subordinate word in a sentence. It is certain that the 
pronouns you and my, when they are contradistinguish- 
ed from other pronouns, and consequently emphatical, 
are always pronounced with their full open sound, you, 
my. But it is as certain, if we observe the pronunciation 
of correct conversation, that we shall find them sound- 
ed ye and mcy when they are suborjlinate words in a 
sentence, and have no emphasis on them ; for example, 
Yoo told him aU the truth. Here the word you is a 
nominative case, that is, it goes before the word denot- 
ing action, and must therefore be pronounced full and 
open, so as to rhyme with new. In this sentence also. 
He told You before he told any body else ; the word 
you is in the oblique case, or comes after the word 



38 RHETORICJUL GRAMHAE. 

deiioting action^ but as it is emphatical by being coa- 
tradistinguished from any body eUej it preserves its 
full open sounds as before. But in the sentence^ 
Aaugh he told you, he had no right to teU you — here 
the pronoun you is in the oblique case^ or follows the 
word denoting action^ and^ having no distinctive em- 
phasis^ invariably falls into the sound of the antiquat- 
ed form of this pronoun^ ye ; and as if written^ tiunigh 
he told ye, he had no right to tell ye.* 

The same observations hold good with respect to 
the pronoun my. If we were to say^ my pen is as bad 
as my paper^ we should necessarily pronounce my like 
me^ BSy in this sentence^ pen and paper are the em* 
phatical words ; but if I were to say ^ my pen is worse 
than yours^ here my is in antithesis with yours, and 
consequently must be pronounced long and full^ so as 
to ryhme with highy nighj &c. 

The word your is exactly under t^HBlvie predica- 
ment. When the emphasis is upon tms word^ it is 
always pronounced full and open^ exactly like the 
substantive ewer ; as^ the moment I had read your 
Utter I sat down to unite mine: but^ when it is not em- 
phatical^ it sinks naturally into yur ; exactly like the 
last syllable of lawyer, as, I had just answered yur first 
letter as yur last arrived. On the contrary^ if it were 
to be said^ / had just answered your first letter^ as 
your last arrived^ with your sounded like ewer, as in 
the former sentence^ every delicate ear would be of- 

* Perhaps it was this pronunciation of the pronoun you, when in the ob- 
fique case, which induced Shakspeare and Mtiton sometimes to writa itye: 
though, as Dr. Lowth observes, verjr ungrammatiiMlij. 

The more shame for ye, holy men I thought ye. 

Henry VUl 
Hi& wmth, Tdiich one day will destroy yt both. 

Miltm, Par. IM, b. iL 1. 7S4. 



RHETORICAL ttRAlIUAR. 39 

fended. A few examples may serve to illastrate these 
•bservatioDS stUl farther. 

*' Your paper If a part of my tea-eqaipage ; and my servant knows my ha- 
Aovrso weiJy that miHing for ray 1)reak£ut this morning, (it being past ray 
vsual hour) the answeredi the Spectator was not yet come in." 

Speet, Jfo, 92. 

In this example we find every my bat the fouidi 
may be pronounced so as to rhyme with high^ and it 
would intimate the singularity of the tea-equipage^ the 
servant^ and the humour^ as opposed to^ or distin- 
guished from those who have no such tea-equipage^ 
servant^ or humour : but breakfast^ having no such 
singularity or opposition of meaning to other break- 
fasts, cannot have my before it pronounced like high 
without being absurd. Not that the sense necessarUy 
requires the full sound of my before the former words, 
but admits of it only ; nay, the repetition of their 
sound being disagreeable to the ear, and the sense not 
demandii^ it, perhaps the best mode of reading this 
passage would be to confine the full sound of my to that 
which precedes the word humour* Your^ at the be* 
ginning of the sentence, requires the full sound rhjrm- 
ing with pwre; as it distinguishes the Spectator 
from other papera, but in the following part of the 
same letter : 

** Having thus, in part, signified the esteem and veneration which I have 
fbr yon, I most pat you in mind of the catalogae of books which yon have 
promised to recommend to onr sex ; for I have deferred famishing my closet 
with authors, till I receive your advice in this particalar, being your daily 
tfsciple, and humble servant, Leonora." 

However we may pronounce the word y(mr pre- 
ceding the word advice, the last your must necessa- 
rily be pronounced short, like yuu This sound of 
the possessive pronoun your always takes place where 



I 



40 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

it is used to signify any particular species of persons 
or things. Thus Addison^ speaking of the metaphors 
which professional men most commonly fall into, says^ 
^^ Your men of business usually have recourse to such 
instances as are too mean and familiar." Spect. No. 
421. — And Cleopatra, in AH for Love, speaking of 
the Roman poets, says, 



■Mere poetry. 



Tour Roman wits, your Gallus and Tibullus, 

Have taught ye this from Cytheris and I>elia. DtifiUn, 

When of, for, from, and by, are to have a hngj and 

when a short sound. 

A distinction similar to those we have been observ- 
ing seems to have taken place in the pronunciation 
of the preposition of. The consonant of this word is 
almost invariably pronounced like the consonant i); 
and when the word does not come before some of the 
pronouns at the end of a sentence, or member of a 
sentence, we sometimes suifer the vowel o to slide 
into the sound of the vowel u ; and the word may be 
said to rhyme with love^ dove, &c. Thus in the 
well-known couplet in the tragedy of the Fair Peni- 
tent, 

Of all the various wretches Love has made 
How few we find by men of sense betray'd ! 

The two ofs in this couplet we find, may, without any 
very palpable departure from propriety, be pronounc* 
ed as if written uv; rhyming with dove, &c. but 
when the word it, him, Iter, them, or any other person- 
al pronoun follows of either in the middle or at the 
end of a sentence, the word o/'must then be pronounc- 
ed as when heard singly, rhyming with the first syl- 



AHBTORICAL GRAMMAR* 41 

lable of nav-el^ hov-el Thus every ear will readily 
perceive the impropriety of reeiting the following 
sentence in this manner^ — We never know the true 
value uv time tUl we are deprived uv it ; and the supe- 
rior propriety, as well as harmony of this manner, — 
We never know the true value uv time till we are de* 
prived ov it 

The same observations hold good with respect to 
the words fromj by ^ for, and every word that in cer- 
tain positions may admit of a less distinct and em- 
phatical sound: for we may allowably pronounce 
Jrom as if written Jrum in the sentence, / delivered 
him FROM the danger he was in ; but we must always 
pronounce it nearly as if written ^ok^ in such sen- 
tences as the following : / came from him ; I delivered 
him FROM it. 

The word by is liable also to a double sound in 
different situations ; that is, sometimes like the verb 
be^ and sometimes like buy* Thus we may say either, 
He died by (be) his own hands : or. He died by (buy) 
his own hands : but we must necessarily pronounce it 
buy^ when it comes before the word it, him^ or any 
similar word at the end of a sentence ; as^ whatever 
was the weapon^ he died by (buy) it. 

In the same manner we may say, / wrote to a friend 
for (fur) his advice : but we must invariably say. He 
would not give me his advice^ though I wrote for (faur) 
iU In these instances we plainly perceive, that there 
is something left to taste, and something established 
by custon* . But notwithstanding the little hold we 
have of these fleeting sounds, that convey to us these 
less important parts of a sentence, we hav^ still suffi- 
cient perception of them for establishing this general 

6 






4£ mHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



rule. When these signs of cases^ of^from^ ^9 ./or, 
are in the middle of a sentence^ they are sometiines 
liable to a double sound ; but when at the end of a 
sentence^ or member of a sentence^ and succeeded by 
U^ him^ her or ihemy they are invariably pronounced 
as when heard singly^ of,fromj by, for, &c. 

Haw to pronounce the possessive pronoun thy. 

From what has been already observed of the pro* 
noun myj we are naturally led to suppose^ that the 
word thyy when not emphatical, ought to follow the 
same analogy^ and be pronounced like tlie^ as we fre- 
quently hear it on the stage : but if we reflect, that 
reading or reciting is a perfect picture of speaking, 
we shall be induced to think, that in this particular 
the stage is sometimes wrong. The second personal 
pronoun /%, is not, like my^ the common language of 
every subject ; it is used only where the subject is 
either raised above common life, or sunk below into 
the mean and familiar. When the subject is elevated 
above common life, it adopts a language suitable to 
such an elevation, and the pronunciation of this lan- 
guage ought to be as far removed from the familiar, as 
the language itself. Thus- in prayer, pronouncing 
thy like the^ even when unemphatical, would be intol- 
erable; while suffering thy^ when unemphatical, to 
slide into the in the pronunciation of slight and famil- 
iar composition, seems to lower the sound of the lan- 
guage, and form a proper distinction between different 
subjects. If therefore it should be asked, why, in reciting 
epic or tragic composition, we ought always to pronounce 
thy rhymiAg with high^ while my^ when unemphatical, 
sinkB into the sound of mey it may be answered^ be- 






aHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 4d 

cause my is the common language of every subject^ 
while Ihy is confined to subjects either elevated iabo^e 
common life, or sunk below it into the endearing and 
familiar. When^ therefore^ the laoguage is elevated^ 
the uncommonness of the word thy^ and its full sound 
rhyming with high^ is suitable to the dignity of the 
subject; but the slender sound like ^Ae gives it a fa- 
miliarity^ only suitable to the language of endearment 
•r negligence, and for this very reason is unfit for 
the dignity of epic or tragic composition. Thus in 
the following passage from Milton : 

Say first, for HeaT'n hides nothing from tiiy view, 

Nor the deep tract of Hel l PartuHtt Lati, b. 1. 

O tbou, that, with surpassing ghny erown*d, 

Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the god 

Of this new world; at whose sight, all the stars 

Hide their diminish'd heads ; to thee I call, 

But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 

O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams.  Paradue ixMf, h. 4 

Here pronouncing the pronoun thyy like the word 
the would familiarise and debase the language to 
prose. The same may be observed of the following 
passage from the tragedy of Cato : 

Now, Cesar, let thy troops beset our gates, 
And bar each avenue ; thy gathering fleets 
O'erspread the sea, and stop up every port ; 
Cato shaU open to himself a passage, 
And mock thy hopes . 

Here the impropriety of pronouncing (hy like the is 
palpable : nor would it be much more excusable in the 
following speech of Fortius^ in the first seene of the 
same tragedy. 

Thou know*8t not that thy brother b thy rival ; 
But I must hide it, for I know thy temper. 
Now, JEtfarcus, now thy virtue's ob the proof^ 



44 RHETORICAL GRAlfMAR. 

Put forth thy utmost strength, work ev'ry nerve 
And call up all thy father in thy aoul. 

As this pronoun is generally pronounced on the stag^ 
it would be difficult for the ear to distinguish wheth- 
er the words are 

Thou know'st not that thy brother is Iky rival — oi' 
Thou know'st not that the brother is the rival, &c. 

and this may be one reason why the slender pronun- 
ciation of thy should be avoided as much as* possible. 
Perhaps it will be urged^ that though these passages 
require thy to be pronounced so as to rhyme with 
highf there are other instances in tragedy where the 
subject is low and familiar^ which would be more suit« 
ably pronounced by sounding thy like fhe ; to which 
it may be answered^ when tragedy lowers her voice^ 
and descends into the mean and familiar, as is fre- 
quently the case in the tragedies of Shakspeare, the 
slender pronunciation of thy may be adopted, because^ 
though the piece may have the name of a tragedy, the 
scene may be really comedy. The only rule there- 
fore, that can be given, is a very indefinite one ; name- 
ly, that thy ought always to be pronounced so as to 
rhyme with high^ when the subject is raised and the 
personage dignified : but when the subject is familiar, 
and the person we address without dignity or impor- 
tance, if thy be the personal pronoun made use of, it 
ought to be pronounced like the : Thus, if, in a familiar 
way, we say to a friend. Give me thy Imndy we never 
hear the pronoun thy sounded so as to rhyme with 
high: and it is always pronounced like the when 
speaking to a child ; we say. Mind thy booky Hold up 
thy heady or Take off thy hat. The phraseology we 
call thee and thouing is not in so common use with 



BHSTORICAL QKAMMAR. 45 

US) as the tutoyant among the French ; but as the sec- 
ond personal pronoun thau^ and its possessive thy are 
indispensable in composition^ it seems of some impor- 
tance to pronounce them properly. 

How to pronounce the adjective possessive pronoun 

Mine. 

I call this word an adjective possessive when it is 
used before a substantive, as it constantly is in scrip- 
ture when the substantive begins with a vowel ; as, 
^^ HEne eyes have seen thy salvation :'^ and a substan- 
tive possessive when it stands alone, as, ^^ This book 
is mine.^^ In reading the scripture we are at no loss 
about the pronunciation of this word, as the dignity 
and solemnity of the composition invariably direct 
us to give the i its long sound, as in the substantive ; 
but in Milton and other cTomposition, where there is 
no such dignity or solemnity, this pronunciation of the 
word has an intolerable stiffness, and ought not to be 
used. Thus, in the Spectator No. 195, Mr. Addison 
says, ^^ Were I to prescribe a rule for drinking, it 
should be formed upon a saying quoted by Sir William 
Temple ; — ^The first glass for myself, the second for 
my friends, the third for good humour, and the fourth 
for mine enemies.'^ In Milton too. 



-Methought, 



Close at mine ear, one calVd me forth to walk. 

In Shakspeare also ; 

Sleeping within mtne orchard, 



Paradise Losl. 



My custom always in the afternoon, 

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, 

With juice of cursed hebenon in a phial , 

And in the porches of mine ears did pour 

The leperovs diitilment— — Bamlet. 



46 BHETORICAL GRAMMAB. 

In all these instances we find a formality^ a staleness 
and uncouthness of sounds that is peculiarly displeasing 
ta the ear : and as this mode of writing was introduc- 
ed when our pronunciation may be said to have been 
in its infancy^ for the sake of euphony^ (for it is clear- 
ly ungrammatical,) so now that it may be said to have 
arrived at its maturity^ the very same reason seems to 
entitle the present age to alter it ; that is^ I mean the 
pronunciation of it^ by substituting my pronounced 
like me in its stead. 

The disagreeable sound which mine has, in these 
cases, to the ear, has inclined several readers to pro- 
nounce it mill ; but by thus mincing the matter (if the 
pun will be pardoned me) they mutilate the word, and 
leave it more disagreeable to the ear than it was be- 
fore. Readers therefore seem to have no choice but 
to pronounce it always as it b written, and to let the 
author be answerable for the ill sound ; or, in all lan- 
guage, but that of scripture, to change it into my pro- 
nounced like me. Shakspeare seems to have used this 
word ludicrously in the Merry Wives of Windsor, 
where Falstaff says, ^^ SGne host of the garter ; — truly 
mme host, I must turn away some of my followers :" 
and the host, by requesting Falstaff to speak scholarly 
and wisely, seems to intimate that this use of the word 
mine before a vowel or an h was the most correct way 
of speaking. 

But though thy, in familiar or ludicrous language, 
will admit of being changed in sound to the, — mine 
will on no occasion suffer an alteration into min. 
When it is used familiarly, it is always a burlesque 
upon the grave use of it, and therefore requires the 



BHETOKICAl. GKAMMAR. 47 

grave sound to be retained^ or the humour of it would 
be lost 

7%^ indistinct sound of the word Not. 

From the frequent pronunciation of this word with- 
out the least necessity of placing an accent on it^ we 
find it sometimes fall into an indistinctness which al- 
most reduces the sound of it to nothing. When it is 
emphatically opposed to something positive^ as^ 
Though he asserts it is sOj I assert it is not so ; here 
the word has its genuine full sound^ rhyming with hot, 
shot, loty &c. ; but when there is no such opposition in 
the sense^ we often hear it dwindle into nut^ as This 
is a hint which I have nut observed in any of our writers: 
on thds subject. Here we shall find the generality of 
readers lay an accent upon have, and pronounce the 
word not in the obscure manner I have been describ- 
ing : where it may be observed^ though there ought 
not to be any emphasis on it^ as in the former example^ 
it should certainly be sounded exactly in the same 
distinct manner in both places. 

That the word not in a simple negative sentence 
does not require an accent^ but is pronounced like an 
unaccented syllable of the word that precedes it^ may 
be gathered from the colloquial contraction of the nega- 
tive phrases cannot, shall not, do not, into ca^n% shd*n% 
don% &c. It is true that these contractions ought 
never to appear in prints except in comedies and far- 
ces, where the language of the lowest vulgar is often 
adopted ;'' but it is perhaps impossible to refuse them 
a place in spoken language, where the subject is com- 
mon and familiar ; though even here they should be 
indulged as little as possible : but be this as it may, 



48 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

they certainly tend to show that a ^mple negative lays 
no stress on the negation^ or custom would never have 
so much obscured it in the contraction. It may be ob- 
served in passings that sa these contractions have dis- 
appeared in prints they have been gradually vanish- 
ing from polite conversation ; and as they ought nev- 
er to have place in publick speakings so those speakers 
in, private may be looked upon as the most elegant^ wh^ 
make the least use of them* 

How to pronounce the participial termination ing. 

The participial termination ing is frequently a cause 
of embarrassment to readers who have a desire to pro- 
nounce correctly : nor is it easy to solve the difficulty. 
We are told, even by teachers of English, that ing in 
the words singings bringing, and swinging, must be 
pronounced with the ringing sound which is heard 
when the accent is on these letters, in words of one 
syllable, as king^ sing^ and wing^ and not as if written 
without the g, as, singin, hringin, and swingin. No 
one can be a greater advocate than I am for the strict- 
est adherence to orthography, as long as the publick 
pronunciation pays the least attention to it ; but when, 
from the nicest observation of the best speakers, I find 
letters given up, with respect to sound, I then consid- 
er them as ciphers. It is from observation I can as- 
sert, that our best speakers do not invariably pro- 
nounce the participial ing so as to rhyme with singy 
kingy and ring, but sometimes only as the preposition 
in. In the first place^ whenever the verb ends with 
ingy as, to sing, to brings or to flings the rep'bti^n of 
the ringing sound in the syllables immediately follow- 
ing each other would have a very bad effect on the 



RHETORICAL ORAMMAR. . 49 

t»y aiDd^ instead of singingj bringing, or flinging ^ our 
best speakers universally pronounce them singin^ 
bringin, hndflingin : for the very same reason^ we ought 
to admit the ringing sound when the verb ends with 
in ; for if^ instead of sinning, pinning, and beginning, we 
should pronounce sinnin, pinnin, and beginnin, we 
should fall into the same disgusting repetition as in 
the former examples. That ing should not always 
have its ringing sounds when a participial termination^ 
is not very wonderful, when we consider how much it 
is the custom of pronunciation to shorten and obscure 
vowels^ in final syllables, that are not under the stress, 
What a trifling omission is the g after n in these syl- 
lables^ to the mutilation of aient in the plurals of French 
verbs into a! But trifling as it is, it savours too much 
of vulgarity to omit it in any words but where the same 
sound immediately precedes, as in singin, bringing 
Jlinginy &c. ; without saying any thing of the ambigui- 
ty it may possibly form by confounding it with the 
preposition in. Writing, readings and speakings 
therefore, are certainly preferable to writin, readin^ 
and speaMn, wherever the language has the least de- 
gree of precision or solemnity, and more particularly 
in reading or speaking in public. 

How to pronounce the word To, when succeeded by 

the pronoun You. 

I have frequently observed some little embarrass- 
ment in readers, when they have met with these words 
without any accentual force on them ; as in the phrases^ 
^^ I spoke to yot^ about it long ago.^^ — ^^ He went to you 
libout some important business/^-— In these phrases^ 



50 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

where you is without accent or emphasis^ and is^ ae* 
cording to the foregoing rule^ pronounced ye^ we some^ 
times hear the to sounded as if written te; as^ ^^t 
spoke te ye about it long ago/^ &c. But it may be 
observed^ that though the you may very properly iu 
this situation be sounded like ye^ yet to must always 
preserve its true sound, as if written twoy at least 
when we are reading, however it may be suffered to 
approach to te when we are speaking ; for it must ev- 
er be kept in mind, that there will always be a slight 
difference between easy or cursory conversation, and 
reading or oratorical speaking; or, in other words^ 
between speaking and talking : the one will admit of 
many contractions and slightnesses in pronunciation, 
which would be wholly inexcusable in the other. Wri- 
ters on this subject commonly content themselves with 
referring us to the practice of the best speakers ; and 
without all question, this is the principal object of 
attention ; but with the same advice that others give, 
I have attempted to add a few rules by way of render- 
ing the advice more useful. 

Having premised these observations on words, we 
shall next proceed to sentences ; as words, arranged 
into sentences, may be properly called the subject mat- 
ter of the art of reading. 

Reading defined. Its relation to speaking. 

Reading is not ill defined by a late writer on the 
subject, where he calls it artificial speaking.^ It is 
an imitative art, which has eloquent speaking for its 
model, as eloquent speaking is an invitation of beau- 
tiful nature. Reading, therefore, is to speaking 

* Rice's Introduction to the Art of Reading. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 51 

what a copy is to an original picture ; both of them 
have beautiful nature for their object : and as a taste 
for beautiful nature can scarcely be better acquired^ 
than by a view of the most elegant copies of it, speak- 
ing, it is presumed, cannot be more successfully taught, 
than by referring us to such rules as instruct us in the 
art of reading. 

The art of reading is that system of rules, which 
teaches us to pronounce written composition with 
justness, energy, variety, and ease. Agreeably to 
this definition^ reading may be considered as that 
species of delivery, which not only expresses the sense 
of an author, so as barely to be understood, but which^ 
at the same time, gives it all that force, beauty, and 
variety^ of which it is susceptible : the first of these 
considerations belongs to grammar, and the last to 
rhetoric. 

The sense of an author being the first object of 
reading, it will be necessary to inquire into those di- 
visions and subdivisions of a sentence, which are em- 
ployed to fix and ascertain its meaning: this leads 
us to a consideration of the doctrine of punctuation. 

Punctuation may be considered in two different 
lights ; firsts as it clears and preserves the sense of 
a sentence, by combining those words together that 
are united in sense, and separating those which are 
distinct ; and, secondly, as it directs to such pauses, 
elevations, and depressions of the voice, as not only 
mark the sense of the sentence, but give it a variety 
and beauty which recommend it to the ear; for in 
speaking, as in other arts, the useful and the agree- 
able are almost always found to coincide^ and every 
real embellishment promotes and perfects the princi- 
pal design. 



Si RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In order^ therefore^ to have as clear an idea of punc- 
tuation as possible^ it wiH be necessary to consider 
it as related to grammar and rhetoric distinctly. 
A system of punctuation may be sufficient for the pur- 
poses of grammar ; or^ in other words, it may be suf* 
ficient to clear and preserve the sense of an author^ 
and at the same time be but a very imperfect guide to 
the pronunciation of it. The art of speaking, though 
founded on grammar^ has principles of its own : prin- 
ciples that arise from the nature of the living voice^ 
from the perception of harmony in the ear, and from 
a certain superaddition to the sense of language, of 
which grammar takes no account These principles 
necessarily influence our pronunciation, and direct us 
to pauses, which are entirely unknown to every sys- 
tem of punctuation in use. 

But though the punctuation in use does not answer 
all the purposes of reading and speaking, it must, nev- 
ertheless, be allowed to be of considerable advantage. 
It does not indeed give us ' half the pauses which a 
just pronunciation seems to require ; and those pau- 
ses it does give are seldom such as precisely mark 
the sense of a sentence ; but still it directs the eye to 
intervals proper for some pauses, and serves to keep 
members from running into each other, and confound- 
ing the sense of the sentence : and if a few simple 
rules,* founded on the nature of a sentence, were 
adopted by writers and printers, there is not the least 
doubt but the art of reading might be greatly facilitat- 
ed and improved. 

But the business of this essay is not so much to 
construct a new system of punctuation, as to endeav- 

*" For these Rales, aee Elements of Elocution, Boston Edition, 1810, p. 4tt 



RHETOBICAL GRAMMAR. 53 

our to make the best use of that which is already es- 
tablished ; an attempt to reduce the whole doctrine of 
rhetorical punctuation to a few plain^ simple principles^ 
which may enable the reader^ in some measure^ to 
point for himself: for this purpose^ it will^ in the first 
place^ be necessary to exhibit a general idea of the 
punctuation in use^ that we may be better enabled to 
see how far it will assist us in the pra(;tice of pronun* 
ciation^ and where we must have recourse to princi" 
pies more permanent and systematical. 

General idea of the common doctrine of punctuation. 

Dr. Lowth defines punctuation to be^ ^^ the art of 
marking in writing the several pauses^ or rests, be- 
tween sentences, and the parts of sentences, accord* 
iug to their proper quantity or proportion, as they are 
expressed in a just and accurate pronunciation/' 
Others, as Sir James Burrow and Dr. Bowles, besides 
considering the points as marks of rest and pauses, 
suppose them to be hints for a different modulation of 
voice, or rules for regulating the accent of the voice, 
in reading ; but whether this modulation of voice re- 
lates to all the points, or to the interrogation, exclama- 
tion, and parenthesis only, we are not informed. 
Grammarians are pretty generally agreed in distin- 
guishing the pauses into 

The period 
The colon 
The semicolon 
The comma 

and those pauses which are accompanied with an alter- 
ation in the tone of voice into 



marked thus 




M HHETORICAL GRAMMAn» 

The interrogation ) C ? 

The exclamation > marked thus < ! 
The parenthesis ) C ( ) 

The period is supposed to be a pause double the time 
of the colon ; the colon^ double that of the semicolon ; 
and the semicolon^ double that of the comma^ or small- 
est pause; the interrogation and exclamation points 
are said to be indefinite as to their quantity of time^ 
and to mark an elevation of voice ; and the parenthe- 
sis to mark a moderate depression of the voice, with 
a pause greater than the comma. 

The use of the Cammcu 

A simple sentence, that is, a sentence having but 
one subject, or nominative, and one finite verb, admits 
of no pause. Thus in the following sentence ; The 
passion for praise produces excellent ejffects in women 
of sense. The passion for praise is the subject, or 
nominative case, to the verb produces, and excellent 
effects in women of sense is the object or accusative 
ciase, with its concomitant circumstances or adjuncts 
of specification, as Dr. Lowth very properly terms 
them ; and this sentence, says the learned bishop, 
admits of no pause between any of its parts, but when 
a new verb is added to the sentence, as in the follow- 
ing : The passion for praise j which is so very vehement 
in the fair sex^ produces excellent effects in women of 
sense. Here a new verb is introduced, accompanied 
with adjuncts of its own, and the subject is repeated 
by the relative pronoun which : it now becomes a 
compounded sentence, made up of two simple sentences, 
one of which is inserted in the middle of the other ; 



AHETORICAli GltAlIUAll. 55 

it musty therefore^ be distinguished into its component 
parts by a point placed on each side of the addition- 
al sentence. 

In every sentence^ therefore, as many subjects^ or 
as many finite verbs^ as there are^ either expressed 
or implied^ so many dictinctions there may be : as^ 
My kapesj fears^ joys^ pains^ all centre in you. The 
case is the same^ when several adjuncts affect the sub- 
ject of the verbs : as^ A good, wise, learned man is an 
ornament to the commonweaUh ; or^ when several ad- 
verbsy or adverbial circumstances, affect the verb : 
as, He behaved himself modestly, prudently, virtuously. 
For as many such adjuncts as there are, so many sev- 
eral members does the sentence contain ; and these 
are to be distinguished from each other as much as 
several subjects or finite verbs. The reason of this 
is, that as many subjects, finite verbs, or adjuncts, as 
there are in a sentence, so many distinct sentences 
are actually implied ; as the first example is equiva-^ 
lent to — My hopes aU centre in you, my fears all cen-^ 
ire in you, Sec. The second example is equivalent 
to — A good man is an ornament to the commonweaUh^ 
o unse man is an ornament to the commonwealth, &c. 
The third example is equivalent to— He behaved him- 
self modestly, he behaved himself prudently, &c. ; and 
these implied sentences are all to be distinguished by 
a comma. 

The exception to this rule is, where these subjects 
or adjuncts are united by a conjunction : as. The imr 
agination and the judgment do not always agree ; and, 
A man never becomes learned without studying constant- 
ly and methodically. In these cases the comma between 
the subjects and adjuncts is omitted* 



SB RHSTORICAl. GKAKUAft. 

There are some other kinds of sentences, which, 
though seemingly simple, are nevertheless of the com- 
pound kind, and really contain several subjects, verbs, 
or adjuncts. Thus in the sentences containing what 
is called the ablative absolute : as, Physicians^ the dis* 
ease once discovered j think the cure half wrought; 
where the words, the disease oru:e discovered, are equiv- 
alent to, when the cause of the disease is discovered* So 
in those sentences, where nouns are added by apposi- 
tion : as. The Scots , a hardy people, endured it all. So 
also in those, where vocative cases occur : as, This, 
^y friend^ you must oMow roe. The first of these ex* 
am pies is equivalent to— TA^ Scots endured it all, and, 
77ie Scots, who are a hardy people, endured it all; and 
the last to — This you must allow me^ and this my 
friend must aUow me. 

m 

The use of the Semicolon, Colon, and Period. 

When a sentence can be divided into two or more 
members, which members are again divisible into mem- 
bers more simple, the former are to be separated by a 
semicolon. 

BXAVrLX. 

But as this passion for admiration, when it worics acconiiDg to resMoni 
Improves the beaatiful part of our species in ev<ery thing that is landabte ; so 
nothing is mora destructive to them, when it is governed by vanity and folly. 

When a sentence can be divided into two parts, each 
of which parts is again divisible by semicolons, the 
former are to be separated by a colon. 

EXAHPLSS. 

As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the ad« 
▼ances we make in knowledge are only perceived by the distance gone over. 



RHBTORICAL GRAKMAR. S7 

Here the two members^ being both simpk^ are onl j 
separated by a comma. 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved, bat did not perceive it mov- 
ing ; so our advances in learning, as they consist of such minute steps, are 
only perceivable by the distance gone over. 

Here the sentence being divided into two equal 
partS; and those compounded^ since they include others^ 
we separate the former by a semicolon^ and the latter 
by commas. 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, bat did not per- 
ceive it moving ; and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ev- 
er saw it grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of 
80ch minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance gone over. 

Here the advancement in knowledge is compared 
to the motion of a shadow^ and the growth of grass ; 
which comparison divides the sentence into two prin- 
cipal parts : but since what is said of the movement of 
the shadow, and of the growth of grass^ likewise con- 
tains two simple membersf^ they are to be separated 
by a semicolon; consequently, a higher pointing is 
required, to separate them from the other part of the 
sentence, which they are opposed to : and this is a 
colon. 

When a member of a sentence forms complete sense, 
and does not excite expectation of what follows, though 
it consist but of a simple member, it may be marked 
with a colon. 

KXAMPLES. 

The discoarse consisted of two parts : in« the first wa« shown the neoeasl- 
ty of fighting ; in the second, the advantages that would arise from it. 

The Augustan age was so eminent for good poets, that they have served m 
alodels to all others : yet it did not produce any good tragic poets 

8 



5S RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

When a sentence is so far perfectly finished^ as not 
to be connected in construction with the following sen- 
tence^ it is marked with a period. 

The Interrogation^ Exdamationj and Parenthesis. 

The note of interrogation is used to show that a 
question is asked : as^ fVhat day of the month is this ? 
It likewise distinguishes a question from a sentence 
in the imperative mood : as^ Do you return ?* In- 
terrogative sentences require an elevation of the 
voice^ except the question be asked by the pronouns^ 
whoy whichy what; or the adverbs^ how^ where^ 
when^ &c. ; for in these cases you must give a mode-, 
rate cadence to your voice^ and let the pause be gov- 
erned by the sense of the subject. 

A parenthesis is a sentence inserted into the body 
of another sentence^ to illustrate its meanings but is 
neither necessary to the seuse^ nor at all affects the 
construction. It marks a moderate depression of the 
voice^ with a pause greater than a comma. 



SXAMPLE. 



When they were both turned of Torty (an age in whtchi according to Mr 
Cowley, there is no dallying with life) they determined to retire, and pasi 
the remainder of their days in the country. SpuUUw^ No. 123. 

An exclamation denotes an emotion of mind^ and 
requires an elevation of voice^ with a pause equiva- 
lent either to a comma^ semicolon^ colon^ or period^ as 
the sense demands. 

* This distinction of the voice, applied to a distinction of interrogativie 
sentrnces, into tiiose that begin with and without the interrogative words, 
is exti-ttcted from a spelliiig-book, WTlttcn by Mr. Perry, a very industrious, 
accurate, and ingenious writer on Enriish pronunciation, at £diobur&h. 
This author, and one Charles Butler, of Magdalen college, Oxford, in bis 
English Grammar, 1<)33, are the only writers in whom I ever met with the 
least hint of tliis very important distinction. 



mHBTOBICAXi GBAMM AR« 59 



£XAHFLB. 



These are thy ^orious works, parent of good! 

Almighty ! Thine thi^ universal frame. 

Thus woudrotts fair ! Thyself how wondrous then ! Mttton. 

This is the most concise and comprehensive scheme 
of punctuation I could possibly collect from the seve- 
ral authors, who have written on this subject; but 
these rules, though sufficient to prevent confusion in 
writing, are very inadequate to the purposes of a ju it and 
accurate pronunciation : as it is certain that a just, a 
forcible, and easy pronunciation, will oblige a judicious 
reader to pause much more frequently, than the most 
correct and accurate writers or printers give him leave. 
But I must again observe, that when I contend for 
the propriety, and even necessity, of pausing, where 
we find no points in writing or printing, I do not mean 
to disturb the present practice of punctuation : I wish 
only to afford such aids to pronunciation, as are actual- 
ly made use of by the best readers and speakers, and 
such as we must use in reading and speaking in pub- 
lic, if we would wish to pronounce with justness, ener- 
gy, and ease. 

Rhetorical Punctuation. 

Punctuation, or the doctrine of pausing, if philo- 
soj^ically considered, will be found to extend much 
further than is generally supposed : for if pausing is 
that resting between words and members of sentences 
which marks their several degrees of connexion and 
dependence on each other, whatever difference is found 
in the degrees of connexion or dependence, so many 
different marks ought to be adopted to point them out 
But though the degrees of connexion and dependence 



60 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

are confessedly many and various^ there are no more 
than four marks by which to denote them. It is true^ 
these marks sufficiently answer the purposes of written 
language, by keeping the members of sentences from 
running into each other^ and producing ambiguity : 
but when we regard them as guides to pronunciation^ 
they fail us at almost every step. Those who are ac- 
quainted with the Art of Reading feel this very sensibly ; 
and are obliged to supply the deficiencies of the points# 
by pauses, which are suggested to them by the struc- 
ture and import of the sentence. Many hints have 
been offered to assist the reader and speaker in the 
practice of pausing, and more might be given by 
an attentive observer ; but that which appears to have 
been overlooked by all our punctuists is, that pausing 
is often relative : that is, that many pauses owe their 
existence not so much to the necessity of distinguish- 
ing the subordinate parts of a sentence^ as to the neces- 
sity of showing the actual subordination of one member 
to another ; or, in other words, in order to class togeth- 
er such portions of a sentence as belong to each other 
more intimately than those that are not so classed* 
Thus^ in the following sentence^ 

Half the misery of the greatest part of mankind might be extingnished, 
would men alleviate the general curse they lie under by mutual offices of 
compassion, benevolence^ and humanity. Spectator^ No. 169. 

If we make a pause at misery^ and none at mankind, 
we find an improper classification of the words ; which 
^s immediately removed either by pausing at mankind 
and not pausing at misery; or by pausing at them both^ 
or by pausing at neither. 

Another instance will show us more clearly how 
punctuation depends upon classification, or such an 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAtl. 61 

association of parts as shows the union and distinction 
of such as are similar and such as are different 

When the proud steed shall know why man restredns 

His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains ; 

When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod^ 

Why now a victim, and now Egypt's god : 

Then shall man's pride and daUiess comprehend 

His actions', passions', being's use and end. 

Pope'$ Essay on Man. 

In the last couplet of this passage, if we pause at com- 
prehend without pausing at dulness^ we shall not suf- 
ficiently distinguish the subject and the verb ; if 
we place a pause at dulness and not at comprehend^ we 
shall not distinguish the verb from that class of words 
which forms its object ; but^ if we pause both at dul- 
ness and at comprehend, we shall mark both these dis- 
tinctions^ and class all the words together^ according 
to their respective similarities and differences. 

Pausing, therefore does not seem to depend so much 
on placing a pause in any particular part of a sentence, 
as in that part which most requires it. Thus we may 
very properly place a pause in the middle of a com- 
plex nominative case ; but if, after this, we join the 
whole nominative to the verb, without a pause, we shall 
soon perceive an improper classification of words: 
which proves that pausing is relative, and that a pause 
is proper or improper, not absolutely and considered 
by itself, but relatively and as it stands connected with 
other pauses : which can arise from nothing but the 
perception of the impropriety of distinguishing the 
parts of a subordinate portion, such as those which form 
the nominative case to the verb, and not distinguishing 
the two superior portions ; the verb, and the nominative 
ease: which is the same absurdity as to distinguish 



€2 RHETORICAL G8AMMA«« 

the parts of a part^ and not the parts of a whole* 
Thus we may distinguish the superior parts without 
distinguishing the inferior, but not vice versa. 

As this idea of punctuation is at least new and cu- 
rious^ it may deserve a little further illustration. 

As thu crael practice of ptfty lying tends to the otter subvention of all 
truth and humanity among us, it deserves (be utmost detestation and dis- 
couragement of all who have either the love of their country, or the honour 
of their religion at heart. Spectator, No. 461. 

This sentence has but two commas in it, as it lies in the 
Spectator before me : but who is there of the least 
discernment who does not perceive a great number of 
other pauses, which might be adopted for the purpose 
of more distinctiy conveying the sense ? In the first 
place, the compound nominative contains a class of 
words ending at lyings which are united as forming 
the subject of the verb, tends; which may be very 
properly distinguished from the next class of words 
which form the object of the verb ; and as this object 
is compounded of two subordinate classes, namely; 
the utter subversiouj and of aU truth and humanity 
among us ; we may pause better at subversion than in 
any other part of this clause j and as the next prin- 
cipal constructive member has for its nominative a 
single word, and that only a personal pronoun, it ad- 
mits of no pause after it : but the regimen of the 
succeeding verb, consisting of several classes of words^ 
requires a pause after the verb, to distinguish it from 
the regimen^ and a pause at discouragementy to distin- 
guish the class which forms the former part of the 
regimen from the latter ; and a pause at ofl, to distin- 
guish the persons understood by this word and the 



BBETOItlCAI. QEAMUAll. 6S 

next member^ which describes them; and this last 
descriptive member^ beginoiog with the nominative 
who, and the verb have, being followed by another 
compound member consisting of two parts^ which form 
the regimen of the Terb^ must have a pause at ha/oe, 
and another at country, in order to distinguish the 
verb from the regimen^ and the parts of the regimen 
from each other. 

It must not be understood that I recommend all 
these pauses as necessary. Certainly not« What I 
wish to inculcate is^ that^ if we pause oftener than the 
common punctuation sets down for us^ our pauses 
ought to take place in those parts of the sentence 
where the words naturally fall into classes ; and that 
if we pause at a subordinate class of words^ we must 
necessarily pause at a superior class, otherwise we 
shall produce disorder and confusion in the thought. 

It may perhaps be objected to this system, that 
there are some classes of words which cannot be sepa* 
rated from other classes without a manifest impropri- 
ety. Thus, in the following sentence from Mr. Ad- 
dison : 

** I consider a human soul withont education like marble in the qaany; 
which shows none of its inherent beauties till the skill of the polisher fetches 
out the colours, makes the surface shine, and discovers every ornamental 
cloud spot and vein that runs throught the body of it." Sped. ^o. 216, 

Here it may be said, that cloud, spot, and vein, form 
a class, and ought, therefore, to be distinguished from 
ornamental by a pause between that word and cloudy 
as well as between cUmd and the two following words. 
To this objection it may be answered, that if we con- 
sider the word ornamented as an adjective qualifying 
only the word cloud, ttie words every ornamental cloud 



64 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

may be considered only as one object^ as the words 
every ornamental are only like an adjective before the 
substantive, which refuses a pause. (See Elements of 
Elocution, page 31.) But if we consider every oma- 
menial to qualify spot and vein as well as cloudy and 
only omitted for the sake of brevity, these words do 
not so much form one distinct class, as three distinct 
classes forming altogether one compound class, govern- 
ed by the verb discovers. Here, too, we may perceive 
the general rule takes place, which forbids a pause 
between the adjective and the substantive in the natu- 
ral order, and which mak^s it improper to pause at 
ornamental But if we suppose this word elliptieally 
omitted before spot^ another general rule obliges us 
to pause after cloudy that the mind may supply the 
word ornamental ; for nothing can be more uniform in 
correct pronunciation, than the rule that enjoins tfS to 
make a pause wherever there is an ellipsis in the lan- 
guage. 

This appears to be the true rationale of punctuation ; 
and, with this principle in view, we shall be enabled 
to enter into a detail of those rules, which are common- 
ly laid down in our grammars, to judge of the justness 
of them, and to add such others as none of our punc- 
tuists have taken notice of. 

But, first, it will be necessary to make a distinc- 
tion of punctuation, which will sound new to every one, 
and that is into visible and audible. Visible punctu- 
ation is that which separates a sentence into its seve- 
ral parts, and show^s the degree of separation that 
exists by the time of the pause between the several 
parts ; and audible punctuation annexes to these pau- 
ses such a turn or elevation and depression of the voice^ 



XHBTORieAL OUAMItAR. 65 

as the sense and structure of a sentence seem to require. 
Of both these in their order. 

A PRACTICAL SYSTEM OF RHETORICAL PCTNCTUATION. 

Of Visible Punctuation. 

Before we give such directions for pausing, or di- 
Tiding a sentence^ as will in some measure enable us 
to avoid the errours of common punctuation, it will be 
necessary to inquire into the nature of a sentence^ 
^nd to distinguish it into its different kinds. Sen- 
tences are of two kinds : a period, or compact sentence^ 
and a loose sentence. A period, or compact sentence, 
is an assemblage of such words, or members, as do not 
Ibrm sense independent of each other ; or, if they do, 
the former modify the latter, or inversely. A loose 
3entence is an assemblage of such words, or members^ 
as do form sense, independent of those that follow^ 
and at the same time are not modified by them : a 
period, or compact sentence, therefore, is di\n3ible in- 
to two kinds ; the first, where the former words and 
members depend for sense on the latter, as in the fol- 
lowi ng sentence : As we cannot discern the shadow moving 
ahng the dial-plate^ so the advances we make in team- 
ing are only perceived by the distance gone over. Here 
we find no sense formed till the last word is pronounc- 
ed ; and this sentence, for distinction's sake, we may 
call a direct period : the second kind of period, or 
compact sentence, is that, where, though the first part 
forms sense without the latter, it is nevertheless modi- 
fied by it : as in the following sentence : There asrt 
several arts which all men are in some measure maS" 
ters ofy unthout being at the pains of learning them* 

9 



66 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

Here^ if we stop at masters of^ we find complete sense 
formed^ but not the whole sense : because what followsr 
modifies or alters the meaning of it : for it is not said 
simply 9 that there are several artSf which cdl men are 
in some measure masters of^ but with this qualification 
or change in the sense^ without being at the pains of 
learning them^ which reduces the general to a partic- 
ular meaning : and this sentence we may call an in^ 
verted period. The loose sentence has its first mem" 
bers forming sense^ without being modified by the lat* 
ter ; as in the following sentence ; Persons of good 
taste expect to be pleased at the same time they are in-- 
formed ; and think that the best sense always deserves 
the best language. In which example we find the lat- 
ter member adding something to the former^ but not 
modifying or altering it 

This diiference of connexion between the membersF 
of sentences, and consequently the diiferent pauses txr 
be annexed to them, will be better understood by at-* 
tending to the different influence of the conjunction 
that and the relative which in the following passage : 

A man should endeavour to make the sphere of his innocent pleasures as 
wide as possible, that he may retire into them with safety, and find in them 
such a satisfaction as a wise man would not bhish to take. Of this nature 
are those of the imagination, which do not require such a bent of thought as 
is necessary to our most serious employments, nor at the same time suffer 
the mind to siiik into that negligence and remissness, which are apt to ac- 
company our more sensual delights. SpecUUor, No* 41U 

In the first of these sentences we find the conjunc- 
tion that modifies or restrains the meaning of the pre* 
ceding member ; for it is not asserted in general and 
without limitation^ that a man should make the sphere 
of his innocent pleasures as wide as possible^ but that 
he should do so for the purpose of retiring into him- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 67 

self: these two members^ therefore^ are necessarily 
connected^ and might have formed a period, or com- 
pact sentence, had they not been followed by the last 
member : but as that only adds to the sense of the 
preceding members, and does not qualify them, the 
whole assemblage of members, taken together, form 
but one loose sentence. 

The last number of the last sentence is necessarily 
connected with what precedes, because it modifies or 
restrains the meaning of it ; for it is not meant, that 
the pleasures of the imagination do not suffer the mind 
to sink into negligence and remissness in general, but 
into that particular negligence and remissness, which 
is apt to accompany our more sensual delights. The 
first member of this sentence affords an opportunity 
of explaining this by its opposite : for here it is not 
meant, that those pleasures of the imagination only 
are of this innocent nature which do not require such 
a bent of thought as is necessary to our more serious 
employments ; but that of this nature are the pleas- 
ures of the imagination in general : and it is by ask- 
ing the question, whether a preceding member affirms 
any thing in general, or only affirms something as lim- 
ited or qualified by what follows, that we shall discov- 
er whether these members are either immediately or 
remotely connected ; and, consequently, whether they 
form a loose or a compact sentence ; as the former 
member, therefore, of the last sentence is not necessa- 
rily connected with those that succeed, the sentence 
may be pronounced to be a loose sentence. 

Sentences thus defined and distinguished into their 
several kinds, we shall be better enabled to give such 
rules for dividing them by pauses, as will reduce punc- 



6$ JiaETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

tuatiofi to some rational and steady principles. Pre* 
viously^ however^ to these rules^ it will be necessary to 
observe^ that^ as the times of the pauses are exceed- 
ingly indefinite^ the fewer distinctions we make be- 
tween them^ the less we shall embarrass the reader ;— • 
I shall beg leave, therefore, to reduce the number of 
pauses to three : namely, the smaller pause, answering 
to the comma ; the greater pause, answering to the 
semicolon, and colon ; and the greatest pause, answer- 
ing to the period. The ancients knew nothing of the 
semicolon ; and, if we consider practice, and real util- 
ity, I believe it will be found, that the three distinc- 
tions of the ancients answer every useful purpose in 
writing and reading. 

RULES FOR PAUSING. 

The principal pause in the compact sentence. 
Rule I. Every direct period consists of two princi- 
pal constructive parts, between which parts the great- 
er pause must be inserted : when these parts commence 
with conjunctions that correspond with each other, 
they are sufficiently distinguishable ; as in the follow- 
ing sentence : 

As no faculty of the mind is capable of more improvement than the mem- 
ory, 90 none is in more danger of decay by disuse. 

Here we may observe, that the first constructive 
part begins with as^ and the second with so ; the ex- 
pectation is excited by the first, and answered by the 
latter: at that point, therefore, where the expectation 
begins to be answered, and the sense begins to form, 
the principal pause is to be used ; and, by these means, 
the two contrasted and correspondent parts are dis- 
tinctly viewed by the mind* 



EHETOBICAL GRAIflf iJt. €9 

A period may be direct^ and may be properly cal* 
led a compact sentence^ wbere only tbe first coBJ«no* 
titan k expressed. 

CXAMPLB. 

As in my speculations J have endeavoured to extinguish panion and prt- 
Judice, I am still desirous of doing some good in this particular. 

Bpui^iar. 

Here the word so is understood before / am, and 
the long pause as much required, as if so had been ex- 
pressed ; since it is here the sentence naturally di- 
vides into two correspondent and dependent parts. 

That point, therefore, where the sense begins to 
form, or where the expectation begins to be answered^ 
is the point which we must be the most careful to 
mark ; as it is here the sentence naturally divides in- 
to its principal constructive parts, and it is here that 
in every sentence and member of a sentence the prin- 
cipal pause takes place. 

Rule II. Every inverted period consists of two 
principal constructive parts, between which parts the 
greater pause must be inserted ; these parts divide 
at that point where the latter part of the sentence be- 
gins to modify the former : in periods of this kind; the 
latter conjuaction only is expressed, as in the example : 
Ikery one that speaks and reasons is a grammarian^ and 
a logician^ though he may he utterly unacquainted with 
the rules of grammar^ or logicky as they are delivered in 
books and systems. If we invert this period, we shall 
find it susceptible of the two correspondent conjunc- 
tions though and yet ; as. Though utterly unacquainted 
with the rules of grammar and bgicky as delivered in 
hooks and systems j yet every man who speaks and rear 



70 RHETORICAL GRAMKAR* 

sons is a grammarian^ and a logician. This inversiom 
of the order of a sentence is, perhaps, the best crite- 
rion of the connexion of its parts ; and proves that the 
former, though forming complete sense of itself, is 
modified by the latter. Thus, in the phrases, Christ 
died for him^ because he died for all — Many things are 
believed^ though they exceed the capacity of our wits. 

Hooker. 

In these phrases, if we do but transpose the noun 
and pronoun, and invert the order, the sentences will 
be perfectly the same in sense, and the connexion 
will be more apparent ; as. Because Christ died for ally 
he died for him — Though many things exceed the ca- 
pacity of our untSy they are believed. 

Wherever, therefore, this transposition can take 
place, we may be certain of a necessary connexion in 
the sense, and that the principal pause lies between 
the two parts. 

7%€ principal pause in the loose sentence. 

Rule. III. Every loose sentence must consist of a 
period, either direct or inverted, and an additional 
member which does not modify it ; and, consequently^ 
this species of sentence requires a pause between the 
principal constructive parts of the period, and between 
the period and the additional member. 

EXAMPLE. 

Persons of good taste expect to be pleased, at the same time they are in- 
formed ; and think that the best sense always deserves the best language. 

In this sentence an inverted period is constructed at 
the vford informed; which requires a pause atpleased^ 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 71 

because here the former part of the sentence is modifi- 
ed by the latter : and a pause is required at informed^ 
because here another member commences. Let us 
take another example. 

The sou], considered abstractly from its passions, is of a remiss and sedeii- 
tary nature ; slow in its resolves, and languishing in its executions. 

Spectator, No. 266. 

Here a direct period is formed at nature^ the prin- 
cipal constructive parts of this period separate at pas- 
sions ; and here must be the larger pause : the suc- 
ceeding members are only additional^ and require a lar- 
ger pause between them and the period they belong 
to^ and a smaller pause between each other at resolves. 

The subordinate pause in the compact sentence. 

Having given an idea of the principal pause in a 
sentence, it will be necessary to say something of the 
subordinate pauses, which may all be comprehended 
under what is called the short pause. 

And first it may be observed, that by the long pause 
is not meant a pause of any determinate length, but the 
longest pause in the sentence. Thus, the pause be- 
tween the nominative and the verb in the following 
sentence : 

The great and invincible Alexander, wept for the fate of Daiius. 

The pause here, I say, may be called the long pausci 
though not half so long as the pause between the two 
principal constructive parts in the following sentence : 

If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and courts of justice, as in* 
9olence does in the country and places of less resort ; Aulus Ceclna would 
submit as much to the impudence of Sextus ^butius in this cause, aa he did 
before to his insolence when assaulted by him. 



^ EHBTORtCAL GBAUlf AB. 

Here the pause between the words resort and Auhis 
C^na may be called the long pause, not so much 
from its duration^ as from its being the principal pause 
in the sentence : the long pause, therefore, must al- 
ways be understood relatively to the smaller pauses : 
and it may pass for a good general rule, that the prin« 
cipal pause is longer, or shorter, according to the sim* 
plicity or complexity of the sentence. 3e^ page 56. 

Rule IV. The subordinate pauses are easily dis- 
tinguished in such sentences as consist of parts, cor* 
responding to parts, as in the last example ; where we 
may observe, that the whole sentence readily divides 
itself into two principal constructive parts at resari : 
the first part as readily divides into two subordinate 
parts eX justice; and the last, into two other subordi- 
nate parts at cause ; and these are all the pauses ne- 
cessary. But if, either from the necessity of drawing 
breath, or of more strongly enforcing every part of 
this sentence, we were to admit of more pauses than 
these, it cannot be denied, that, for this purpose, some 
places more readily admit of a pause than others : 
if,' for instance, the first subordinate part were to admit 
of two pauses, they could no where be so suitably 
placed as at impudence and forum; if the next might 
be overpointed in the same manner, the points would 
be less unsuitable at does and country^ than at any 
other words ; in the same manner, a pause might 
be more tolerable at Cadna and jEbutius^ and at be- 
fore and insoience^ than in any other of the subordinate 
parts of the latter division of this sentence. 

The parts of loose sentences which admit of the 
short pause must be determined by the same princi* 
pies. If this sentence has been properly defined, it is 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 73 

a sentence consisting of a clause containing perfect 
sense, followed by an additional clause which does not 
modify it Thus^ in the following example : 

Foolirii men are more apt to consider what they have lost, than what they 
possess ; and to turn their eyes on those who are richer than themselves, 
rather than on those who are under greater difficulties. 

Here a perfect sentence is formed at possess^ and 
here must be the longest pause, as it intervenes be- 
tween two parts nearly independent: the principal 
pause in the first miember of this sentence, which, re- 
specting the whole sentence, may be called a subor- 
dinate pause, is at hsty and that of the last member, 
at themselves ; if, for the sake of precision, other and 
shorter pauses were admitted, it should seem most 
suitable to admit them at men and consider in the first 
member, at eyes and th4>se in the first part of the sec- 
ond member, and at . those in the last. In these ob- 
servations, however, it must be carefully understood^ 
that this multiplicity of shorter pauses is not recom- 
mended as necessary or proper, but only as possibly 
and to be admitted occasionally : and to draw the line 
as much as possible between what is necessary and 
unnecessary, we shall endeavour to bring together such 
particular cases as demand the short pause, and those 
where it cannot be omitted without hurting either the 
sense or the delivery. 

Rule V. When a nominative consists of more thaa 
one word, it is necessary to pause after it . 

When a nominative and a verb come in a sentence, 
unattended by adjuncts, no pause is necessary, either 
for the ear or understanding ; thus in the following 
sentence : Alexander wept : — ^no pause intervenes be- 

10 



► 



74 KHETORICAL GRAHMAR. 

tween these words^ because they convey only two ideas^ 
which are apprehended the moment they are pro- 
nounced ; but if these words are amplified by adjuncts 
of specifications^ as in the following sentence : The 
great and invincible Alexander , wept for the fate of Da- 
rius. Here a pause is necessary between these words^ 
not only that the organs may pronounce the whole 
with more ease, but that the complex nominative and 
verb may, by being separately and distinctly exhibit- 
ed, be more readily and distinctly conceived.* 

This rule is so far from being unnecessary, when 
we are obliged to * pause after the verb, that it then 
becomes more essential. 



EXAMPLE. 



This account of party patches will, I am afraid, appear improbable to those 

who Hire at a distance from the fashionable world. 

Addisan't Sped. JVb. 81. 

• 

If in this sentence We only pause at mU, as mark- 
ed by the printer, we shall find the verb swallowed 
up as it were by the nominative case, and confound- 
ed with it ; but if we make a short pause, both before 

* It is not a little astonishing that so acute a grammarian as Beauz6e should 
make the propriety of a pause in this case depend, not on the necessity of 
distinguish mg parts more or less connected, but on the necessity of breath- 
ing, if the sense is impaired by a pause, a pause is absolutely inadroisaibfe 
in the longest as well as the shortest sentence ; but if a pause between the 
nominative and the verb, where the nominative consists of many wonls, 
does not injiu^e the sense, but rather clears and strengthens it, we may safely 
pronounce that a pause between every complex nominative and verb is not 
only admissible but necessary. 

His examples of sentences where we may pause, and where we may not, 
are the following : 

UhtmMt injusU ne voit la mart que comme unfanidme ajfrtux. Theor. des 
Sent. chap. 14. 

La tenuA detffwx ChriAt, tt des faux prophSteSf tembtoit (Ire tm pbu prockain 
aehenUnemefd d, la demiire ruine. Bossuet Disc, sur THist. Univ. P. II. 

Bnt if the foregoing observations are just, a pause in speaking is quite as 
admissible at injuke as at prophiiet : for, to use his own words — CeH une er- 
reur senmfde^ de faire de pendre U def^ cT €(ffinU6 de pknue* de lew plvt ov 
fiiotm d'iLendue ; un atome tient auui pen d un autre aiome qu'une ntontagne d 
une fnmUttgne. Gram. Generalei vol. ii. p. 692. 



RHETOBICAL. QBAMMAB. 75 

wd after it^ we shall find every part of the sentence 
obvious and distinct. 

That the nominative is more separable from the 
verb than the verb from the objective case^ is plain 
from the propriety of pausing at self-love^ and not at 
forsookp in the following exaqnple : 

Self-love forsook the path it first pursuedi * 

And found the private in the public good. 

Pvpt'i Etaoy on Man, 

The same may be observed of the last line of the fol* 
lowing couplet : 

4 

Earth smiles around with boundless bounty blest. 

And Heay'n beholds its image in his breast. 7^. 

In these instances^ though the melody invites to a 
pause at forsook and beholds, propriety Requires it at 
self-love and Heaven. 

Bulb VI. Whatever member intervenes between 
the nominative case and Uie verb is of the nature of a 
parenthesis^ and must be separated from both of them 
by 9 shprt pause. 

EXAMPLES. 

I am told that many virtuous ma/rons, who formerly have been taught to 
believe that this artificial spotting of a face was unlawful, are now reconcil- 
ed, by a zeal for their cause, to what they could not be prompted by a con- 
c«m €or their beauty. Addison's Speet. JVb. 81. 

The member intervening between the nominative ma- 
tronsj and the verb are^ may be considered as inci- 
deiital^ and must therefore be separated from both. 

When the Romans and Sabines were at war, and just upon the point of giv- 
ing )[Mttle, ih^ women, who were allied to both of them, inteiposed with so 
many .tears and entreaties, that they prevented the mutual slaughter which 
threatened both parties, and united them together in a firm and lasting peace. 

Aidinn'i Sptet. Ab. 61 , 



76 RHETOSICAL GHAMMAR. 

Here the member intervening between the nomina- 
tive case women f and the verb interposed^ must be 
separated from both by a short pause. 

Rule VII. Whatever member intervenes between 
the verb and the accusative case, is of the nature of a 
parenthesis^ and must be separated from both by a 
short pause* 

tZAMPLtS. 

I knew ft person wha poisetsed tbe fiiculty of distkiguUhSng flavours in so' 
great a perfection, that, after having tasted ten different kinds of tea, h» 
would distinguish, without seeing the colour of it, the particnlar sort which' 
was offered him. Addison's SpeeL JVb. 409.' 

The member intervening between the verb distinguish, 
and the accusative the particular sort, must be separate 
ed from them by a short pause. 

A man of a fine taste in writing will discern, after the same manner, not 
only the general beauties and imperfections pf an author, but discover the 
several wa;|^ of thinking and expressing himself, wluch divenify him from 
all other authors. Addison, ibid. 

The member intervening between the verb discern, 
and the ascusative not only the general beauties and 
imperfections of an author^ pust be separated from 
both by a short pause. 

Rule VIII. Whatever words are put into the case 
absolute^ must be separated from the rest by a pause. 



SXAXPUS. 



If ft man borrow aught of his neighbour, and H be hurt or die, the owner 
thereof not being with it, he shall surely make it good. 

Here, the owner thereof not being with itj is the 
phrase called the ablative absolute, and this, like a 
parenthesis, must be separated from the rest of the 
sentence by a short pause oi! each side. 



BHCTOBICAL GRAMIIAtti 77 

•' •' God, from the mount of SimJ, whose gnj top 

Shall tremble, he descending, will himself 

Id thander, iightning, and loud trampet's sound, 

Ordain them laws. MUimi. 

Here, he descending, neither governs nor is governed 
by any other part of the sentence, and is said to be in 
the ablative absolute ; and this independence must be 
marked by a short pause before and after the phrase* 
Rui.E IX* If an adverb is placed after the verb^ 
and consists but of one word^ it must be separated 
from what follows by a pause. 

XXAMPLI. 

He did not act prudently in one of the most important affairs of hit life, and 
therefore could not expect to be happy. 

Rule X. If the adverb consists of more words than 
one, or forms what is called an adverbial phrase, it 
ought to be separated both from the verb and what 
follows, by a pause* 

tXAHPLB. 

Thus man is, by naturei directed to correct, m tome meatiJirej that distribn* 
tion of things^ which she henelf would otherwise have made. 

Smiih'i Theory qf Moral SenHmentt, 

Rule XI. Words or phrases in apposition, or when 
the latter only explains the former, have a short pause 
between them. 

BXAMPLB. 



-Ooddess of the lyre, 



Which rules the accents of the moving spheres, 
Wilt thou, eternal Harmony^ descend 
And join this festive train ? 

RxnLE XIL When two substantives come together, 
and the latter^ which is in the genitive case, consists 



78 . ftHfiTOBic A^ <;raum AIU 

of several words cloteljr wited with each other^ a 
pause is admissible between the tw6 principal substan* 
tives. 

KSJMflBB. 

We nagr f>bMive, tiuit oqjr M|^ enminfUiices of wkM we litve Ibfiaeriy 
•eea, often raises op a whole scene of imageiy, and awakens nomberless 
ideas, that before slept in the imagination. Spectator, JVb. 417. 

I do not know whether I am singular in my ofrinion, bat for my own parti 
1 would rather look opon a tree in all Its luinriancy, and dilfasien of boughs 
add tesBfiiiei, thsft viUtn It is cut and trimmed lito a mathematical figure. 

[bid. m 415. 

Correct reading would admit of a pause in the first 
example at circumstance^ aod^ in the last^ rather at 
diffusion than at luxuriancy. 

Rule XIII. Wh> and which, when relative pro- 
nouns^ and that^ when it stands for who and whichj 
always admit of a pause before them. 

XXAMPLSS. 

A man can never be obliged to submit to any power, unless he can be sat- 
isfied, who is the person, who has a right to exercise it. Ladfce. 

1*0 whidi we may add. their want of judging abilities, and siso their want 
of opportunity to apply such a serious consideration as may let tiiem into the 
true goodness and evil of things, which are qualities, which seldom display 
themselves to the first view. South. 

Vanity is i\]e foundation of the most jfldiculous and contemptible vices, 
Ihe ^ces of affectation and common tying ; follies which, if experienee dM 
not teach us how common they are, one should imagiqe the le^t jpwk of 
common sense would save us from. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. 

The word which, in the last e:^ample^ that ought to 
have a pauae before jit^ has ooe after it ; this latter 
pause is certainly proper^ as a member intervenes be- 
tween which and the governing words^ and printers 
liever fail pbcing <tibi8 last pmuse^ but almost as uni- 
hruiy nc^^kct a pauf e bejwre khe tolativie in this »ft- 



k 



ItAfifOttlCAL GtlAlfKAK. 79 

ttatioit, though the pause bejbre will be acknowledged 
by every judicious ear to be as necessary in the one case 
as in the other. A pause before these relatives ought 
never to be omitted^ as we are certain by this pause 
never to hurt the sense^ and are sure to gain time^ 
breathy and foresight to proceed. The uncertainty 
of printers in this essential pause may be guessed at^ 
from the punctuation of a passage^ which follows tiiatj 
which I have just quoted. 

The foolish liar, who endeavoan to excite the admiration of the company 
by the relation of adventures which nerer had any exbfeoce, the important 
coxcomb, who gives himself airs of rank and disUnction Which be wel 
knows he has no just pretensions to, are both of them no doabt pleaded with 
the applause which they fancy they meet with. 1^. p. 192. 

In this passage we only see a pause before the first 
telative ; but why that is distinguished it is not very 
easy to guess. 

This rule is of greater extent than at first appears ; 
tor there are several words usually called adverbs, 
which include in them the power of the relative pro- 
noun^* and will therefore admit of a pause before 
them: such as v^nj why^ wherefarej howy wheref 
whither y whether ^ whence, wkUe^ tiU^ or until; for when 
is equivalent to the time at which ; why or wherefore ia 
equivalent to the reason for which ; and so of the rest* 
It must^ however^ be noted^ that when a preposition 
comes before one of these relatives, the pause is before 
the preposition ; and that, if any of these words are 
the last word of the sentence, or clause of a sentence^ 
BO pause is admitted before them ; as, / Imoe read the 
book J of which I have heard so much commendation^ but 
I know not the reason why. I have heard one of the 
hooks muck commended, hut Icanmri tell which, ^. 

See Ward's Engluh Grammar; 4to. 






80 EHETORICAL GRAMUAB* 

It must likewise be observed, that, if the substan- 
tive which governs the relative^ and makes it assume 
the genitive case, comes before it, no pause is to be 
placed either before whichj or the preposition that 
governs it. 

BXAMPLI. 

The passage of the Jordan is a figure of baptism, by the grace of vhieh^ 
the Dew-bom Christian passes from tlie slavery of sin into a state of freedom 
pecoliar to the chosen sons of God. 

Ahridgmtnt of the Bible. 

Rule XIV. When that is used as a casual con- 
junction, it ought always to be preceded by a short 
pause. 

XXAKPLES. 

The custom and familiarity of these tongues do sometimes so fiur inflaenee 
the expressions in these epistlesi that one may observe the force of the 
Hebrew conjugations. Locke, , 

There is the greater necessity for attending to this 
rule, as we so frequently find it jxeglected in printing. 
For fear of crowding the line with points, and appear- 
ing to clog the sense to the eye, the ear is often de- 
frauded of her unquestionable rights. I shall give 
two instances, among a thousand, that might bp 
brought to show where this is the case. 

I must therefore desire the re^er to remember Uud, by the pleasures of 
the imaglnatton« I mean only such pleasures as arise originaUy from sight 

SpecUUor^ Jfo. 411. 

It is true, the higher nature still advances, and, by that means, preserves 
his distance and superiority in the scale of being ; but he knows that, how 
high soever the station is of which he stands possessed at present, the inferior 
nature will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same degree of 
glory. Spectator, JCo. llh 

In these examples, we find the incidental member 



r 
« 



1 



I 
I 



I 

V 



•nBETORiq&L GRAmiAB. • 81 



lopceeding the eonjuQctioQ thxt\% separated frotn it 
by a pause ; but the pause which ought to precede 
this conjunction is omitted: this punctuation ! runs 
ihrough our whole typography^ and is the morej cul- 
p^ble^ as (lie insi^tion of the pause after ihaty where 
it is less wanted £|ian before, is mor^ ^ aj)t V^ mislead 
the reader than if t^e sav(^ no pause at all. 

Rule XV. Wh6n the adjective follows the sub 
atantive^ and is succeeded either by another aljec- 
tive^ or words equivalent to it, which fof:m what may* 
b^ called a descriptive' phra^e^ it must bfe. sepa*ated 
from the subst^tive by\a short pause. 

£XAIfPLC8. 

He was a man, leanied and pelite. i 

It te a book, ezquifiite id its kind. | 

Jt wa« a calculation, accurate to the last de|;re^. | 

That no pause is to be admitted between the sub- 
-stantive and the adjective, in the inverted order, when 
the adjective is single, or unaccompanied by adjiincts, 
is evident by the following example from Pope : . 

Of tke^e the ditof the care of nations own, ' 

And guard with armt divtTUt the British throne. 

for the reason of this^ see Elements of £loci|tio% 
page 37. j 

Those who haw not considered tiiis subject very 
attentively, will, I doubt not, Imagine, that ( !have 
inserted above twice the number of points thiat are 
necessary ;' but those who are better acquainted with 
the art^ will, I flatter myself^ agree with me, that a 
distinct, a deliberate^ and easy pronunciation^ will 
.find employment for every one of them. Much nn* 

11 



82 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

doubtedly will depend upon the turn of voice, with 
which we accompany these points ; and, if this is 
but properly adapted, the sense will be so far from 
suffering by so many pauses, that it will be greatly 
improved and enforced. And this leads us to a con- 
sideration of one of the most important parts of de- 
livery ; which is, the slide or inflection of voice with 
which every sentence, member of a sentence, and 
even every word, is necessarily pronounced ; with- 
out ^ knowledge of this it will be impossible to speak 
intelligibly of the interrogation, exclamation, and pa- 
renthesis, which seem distinguished from other sen- 
tences more by a peculiar inflection of voice than by 
pausing ; nor can accent and emphasis be completely 
undertood without considering them as connected with 
a certain turn or inflection of voice ; and this must be 
(he next object of our inquiry. 

Audible PunctucUiofi. 

As describing such sounds upon paper as have no 
definite terms appropriated to them, like those of 
music, is a new and difficult task, the reader must 
be requested to as nice an attention as possible to 
those sounds or inflections of voice, which sponta- 
neously annex themselves to certain forms of speech^ 
and which, from their familiarity, are apt to be 
unnoticed. If experience were out of the question, 
and we were only acquainted with the organic forma- 
tion of human sounds, we must necessarily distinguish 
them into five kinds: namely. The monotone, or 
one sound, continuing a perceptible time in one note, 
Vhich is the case with all musical sounds ; a sound 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR.* 83 

beginniiig low and sliding higher without any percep- 
tible intervals, op beginning high and sliding lower 
in the same manner ; which is essential to all speak- 
ing sounds : the two last of these may be called 
simple slides or inflections; and these may be so 
combined as to begin with that which rises and end 
with that which falls, or to begin with that which 
falls and end with that which rises ; and if this com- 
bination of inflection is pronounced with one impulse 
or explosion of the voice, it may not improperly be 
called the circumflex or compound inflection ; and 
these are the only possible modifications the human 
voice is susceptible of. For first, if there is no turn 
of voice, it must continue in a monotone ; secondly, 
if the voice be inflected, it must be either upwards or 
downwards, and so produce either the rising or 
falling inflection ; thirdly, if these two be united on 
the siame syllable, it can only be by beginning with 
the rising, and ending with the falling inflection, or 
vice versd j^ as any other mixture of these opposite 
inflections is impossible. 

. A writer,* who seems to have taken up two of 
the distinctions of voice I have been describing, tells 
us, that the two inflections of voice, which accom- 
pany the pauses, are, that which conveys the idea of 
continuation, and that which conveys the idea of 
compktion ; but nothing ean be less satisfactory than 
this account of the use of these inflections : for the 
first, which is said to imply continuation, ought 
always to be u^d at the end of an interrogative sen- 
tence beginning with the verb, and almost always at 

* Enfield's Speaker, page xxvi. 3oe also Preface to Elements of Elocn. 
tion, page vlS. 



84 fmETOItlGAL GRAMSfAttr 

the end of a sentence which terminates with a fiegsi' 
tive member^ as is abundantly shown in Elements^ 
of Elocution^ page 143^ 144^ Scc« ; and for the sec- 
ond; which is said to imply completion^ we find it 
90 often introduced where the sense is incomplete ;; 
particularly in the series^ which see hereafter^ and is 
those sentences where we enforce a concession im 
order to strengthen the conclusion^ and in a thmisattd 
instances^ where emphasis occurs^ that scarcely any 
thing can be more vague and uncertain than the rule 
laid down by this author. 

The truth is^ nothing will enable us to adapt the^e 
inflections properly^ but distiagubfaing sentencea 
into their various kinds^ and considering nicely the 

structure and meaning of these sentences^ atid the 
several 'distinctions to which these modificatkms of 
Voice are liable ; which is too deKcate as well as to4 
laborious a task for the generality of writers^ ant 
therefore it is no wonder we find such superficial 
directions as the bulk of our treatises on this subjeet 
abound in. I flatter myself I have led the way ia 
this laborious task^ in Elements of Eloeutien^ to 
which the curious reader must be referred for fuD 
satisfaction. In the present work I purpose to con- 
fine myself to what may be considered as more imme* 
diately necessary to practice; for which purpose^ 
after explaining these turns of voice to the ear aa 
accurately as possible^ I shall endeavour to assist the 
ear by the eye^ in comprehending tiie severd modi* 
fications of voice^ and then attempt to apply them to 
the several sentences and parts of sentences accord* 
ing to their different structure and meaning. 



JIHBTORICAL GRAICHAR. ^ 

Explanation of the hfleciUms of the Voice. 

Though we seldom hear such a variety in reading 
or speaking as the sense and the satisfaction of the 
ear demand^ yet we hardly e^er hear a pronunciation 
perfectly monotonous. In former times we might 
have found it in the midnight pronunciation of the 
bdl»tMn's versea at Christmas ; and how, the towA- 
crter^ as Shakspeare eaUs him^ sometimes gives us a 
specimen of the monotonous in his vociferous exordium^ 
^ This is to give notice /'^— the clerk of a court of 
justice also promulgates the will of the court by that 
barbarous metamorphosis of Ogez ! Oyez ! Hear ye / 
Hear ye/ into Oyes! Oyes! in a perfect sameness 
of voice* But| however ridiculous the monotone in 
speaking may be in the above^-mentioned characters, 
in certain scdemn and sublime passages in poetry it 
has a wonderfid force and dignity ; and, by the un« 
commonness of its use, it even adds greatiy to that 
variety with which the ear is so much delighted. 

This monotone may be defined to be a continuation 
or sameness of sound upon certain syllables of a word,^ 
exactly like that produced by repeatedly striking a 
beU j^HBUch a stroke may be louder or softer, but con- 
tinues exacdy in the same pitch. To express this 
tone upon paper, a horizontal line may be adopted ; 
such a one as is generally used to express a long syl-* 
lable in verse ; thus(~~)« 

The grand description of the riches of Satan's 
throne, in the beginning of Milton's second book of 
the Paradise Lost, alfords us an opportunity of ex- 
emplifying the use of this tone : 



66 RHETOtllCAL GRAMMAR. 

High on a throne of royal state, which far ** 

Outshone the wealth of Ormns or of Inde ; 
Or wh€re the gorgeous Etot, with richest h&nd, 
ShOw*rs, on her kings barb&ric^ pearl and gold, 
Satan exalted sat. 

The rising inflection is that upward turn of the 
voice we generally use at the comma^ or in asking a 
question beginning with a verb : as^ N6^ say you ; did 
he say No f This is commonly called a suspension of 
voice, and may not improperly be marked by the acute 
accent, thus ( ' ). 

The falling inflection is generally used at the semi- . 
colon and colon ; and must necessarily be heard in 
answer to the former question, He did; He said No. 

This inflection, in a lower tone of voice, is adopted at 
the end of almost every sentence, except the definite 
question, or that which begins with the verb. To ex- 
press thi^ inflection the grave accent seems adapted: 
thus('). 

The rising circumflex begins with the falling inflec- 
tion, and ends with the rising upon the same syllable^ 
and seems as it were to twist the voice upwards. 
This inflection may be exemplified by the drawling 
tone we give to some words spoken ironically ; as the 
word ClodiuSf in Cicero's oration for Milo. This turn 
of the voice is marked in this manner ( v). 

But it is foolish in ns to compare Drusus, Africanus, and ourselves with 
Clodius ; all our other calamities were tolerable, but no one can patiently 
bear the death of ClSdius. 

The falling circumflex begins with the rising inflec- 
tion, and ends with the falling upon the same syllable, 
and seems to twist the voice downwards. This inflec- 
tion is generally used to express reproach ; and may 
be exemplified by the drawling tone we hear on the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 87 

word ytm^ in Hamlet^s answer to his mother, who 

says- 
Queen. HamlSt, yoQ have your father much offi^nded. 
Hamlet. Madam, you have my father much offended. 

This turn oC the voice may be marked by the com- 
mon circumflex: thus (a). 

Both these circumflex inflections may ber exempli- 
fled in the word sOy in a speech of the Clown in 
Shakspeare's As You Like IL 

I knew when seven justices could not make up a quarrel ; but when tlie 
parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an if ; as if you 
aaid so, then I said s6 ; and they shook hands and were sworn brothers. 

The slightest attention to those turns of voice on 
the word so^ which every one who has the least idea 
of comic humour must necessarily adopt in reading 
this passage^ will sufficiently exemplify the existence 
and utility of these two circumflexes. 

These five modifications of the voice may be called 
absolute ; as they are the only possible ways of vary- 
ing it so as to make one mode essentially different 
from the other. High and low^ loud and soft^ quick 
and slow^ which may accompany them^ may be called 
comparative modifications^ as what is high in one case 
may be low in another^ and so of the rest. 

Explanation of Plate I. 

By the foregoing analysis of the voice, we perceive 
it is divisible into two simple inflections ; the rising 
and falling inflection ; and each of these again is di- 
visible into two sorts of the same kind. The rising 
^inflection is divisible into that which marks a pause 
where the members are intimately connected in sense, 
(as at the word sati^actorilyf No. V.) and that where 



18 llH£TO]lieAL «ItAMMAl^* 

they terminate ia a question (as at No. I. on the woi4 
No ;) in both which places the inflection of voice is 
exactly the same^ but should be somewhat higher and 
more continued at the note of interrogation^ than at 
the comma. The Halting inflection is likewise divisi* 
ble into that which marks a member containing per* 
feet sense not necessarily connected with what follows 
(as No. L at the semicolon at did ; and at No. IV. at 
the colon at commandments ;) and that which marks 
the close of a period (as No. IV. at man :) these two 
are essentially the same inflection^ and diflbr only as 
they are pronounced in a hi^er or a lower tone^*— 
the former terminating the members at did and com- 
mandmenisj in a middle or higher tone ; and the lat- 
ter^ after a gradual fall of voice upon the preceding 
words^ sinks into. a lower tone upon the word man. 

The two circumflexes^ No. VI. and No. VII. fall 
4Uid raise^ and raise and fall the voice upon the same 
syllable^ in which operation the vowel seems to be 
considerably extended : for which reason, in the ris- 
ing circumflex^ No. VI. I have extended the vowel o 
by doubling it, and giving the first part of the vowel 
to the falling, and the last to the rising inflection. 
In the other example, No. VII. you^ being a diph- 
thong, admits of a double sound, exactly equivalent 
to the letter t^, which, being analysed, is no more 
than ye ooy pronounced as closely together as possi- 
ble ; (See Critical Pronouncing Dictionary in the 
Principles, No. 39, 171, and No. 8, in the notes) and, 
therefore, if we might be permitted to violate spel- 
ling for the sake of conveying the sound, the first 
part of the word might be pronounced ye^ with thb 
rising inflection, and the last part like oo^ with the 
Hilling. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 89 

In this exhibition of the several inflections of the 
voice to the eye^ we have an opportunity of observing 
the true nature of accent. The accented syllable^ it 
may be observed^ is always louder than any other^ 
either before or after it ; and when we pronounce the 
word with the falling inflection^ the accented syllable 
is higher as well as louder^ tiian either the preceding 
or succeeding syllables ; as in the word satisfactorily^ 
No. III. But when we pronounce tliis word with the 
rising inflection^ as in No. IL though it is louder and 
higher than the two first syllables^ it is certainly low- 
er than the three last Did he answer satisfcictorily ? 
Those who wish to see a more minute investigation of 
the nature of accent, may consult Elements of Elocu- 
tion^ Part IL page 181, « 

The different states of the voice. 

After the foregoing analysis of the voice into its 
severaS^'modifications or inflections^ we may take oc- 
casion to give a sketch of those states or varieties^ of 
which it is susceptible in other respects. Besides the 
inflections which have been just enumerated^ the only 
varieties of which the voice is capable^ independent 
of passion, are^ high, low ; lotid, soft ; and these^ as 
they succeed each other in a more or less rapid pro- 
nunciation^ may be either quick or slow. The terms 
forcible and feeble^ which are certainly not without 
ideas to which they are appropriated^ seem to be 
severally a compound of two of these simple states ; 
that is, force seems to be loudness and quickness^ ei- 
ther in a high or a low tone ; hndfeebleness seems to be 
softness and slowness, either in a high or a low tone. 

This^ however, I wish to submit to the consideration 

12 



90 RHETORICAL GBAMXAR. 

of the philosophical musician. As to the tones of the 
passions^ which are so many and various^ these^ in the 
opinion of one of the best judges in the kingdom^ are 
qualities of souad^ occasioned by certain vibrations of 
the organs of speech^ independent on high, low, loud| 
soft, quick, or slow^ which last may not improperly be 
called different quantities of sound. 

It may, perhaps, not be unworthy of observation to 
consider the almost unbounded variety which these 
principles produce by a different combination with 
each other. The different quantities of sound, as 
these states of the voice may be called^ may be com- 
bined so as to form new varieties by uniting with any 
other that is not opposite to it Thus, high may be 
combinod with either loud or soft, quick or slow ; that 
is, a high note may be sounded either in a loud or a 
soft tone ; and a low note may be sounded either in a 
loud or a soft tone also ; and each of these combina- 
tions may succeed each other more swiftly or slow- 
ly : while forcible seems to imply a degree of loud- 
ness and swiftness, and feebk a degree of softness 
and slowness, either in a high or a low tone. This 
combination may, perhaps, be more easily conceived 
by classing these different quantities in contrast with 
each other. 

Hiefa loud quick I ^^^'^^^f "l*? ^« ^'g'** ^^^^> "^ ^^^^f o' ^«^> ^^^^ 
® ' ' ^ ' \ and quick. 

how, foO, slow. \ Feeble may be high, soft, and slow, or low, eoft, ani 

The different combinations of these states may be 
thus represented : 

High, loud, quick Low, loud, quick 

High, loud, slow ' Low, loud, slow 
High, soft, quick Low, soft, <{alck 

High, soft, slow. Low, soft, slow. 



mfiBTORIGAL GRAMMAK. 91 

When these states of the voice are combined with 
Ae five modifications of voice above-mentioned^ the 
varieties become exceedingly numerous^ but far from 
incalculable. Perhaps they may arise (for I leave it 
to arithmeticians to reckon the exact number) to that 
number into which the ancients distinguished the notes 
of music ; which^ if I remember rights were about two 
hundred. 

Practical system of the inflections of the voice. 

Words adopt particular inflections^ either according 
to the particular signification they bear^ or as they 
are either differently arranged or connected with oth- 
er words. The first application of inflection relates 
to emphasis^ which will be considered in its proper 
place ; the last relates to that application of inflec- 
tion^ which arises from the division of a sentence into 
its component parts, by showing what turns or slides 
of voice are most suitable to the several distinctions^ 
Tests^ and pauses of a sentence. For this purpose 
the rising inflection is denoted by the acute accent, 
thus ( ' )» and the falling inflection by the grave accent^ 
thus(^)- 

COMPACT SENTENCE. 

Direct period j with two conjunctions* 

Rule I. Every direct period, so constructed as to 
have its two principal constructive parts connected by 
correspondent conjunctions, requires the long pause 
with the rising inflection at the end of the first prin- 
cipal constructive member. 



92 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

EXAVPLBS. 

' Al we cannot dUteetn die Ahadow moving along the dial*ptate, so (he nA* 
vances we make in knowledge are only perceived by the distance gone ovar- 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved| but did not perceive it mdv- 
itig ; so our kdvances in learning, consisting of insensible steps, are only 
perceivable by the distance. 

As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, bnt A\d not per- 
ceive it moving ; and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ev- 
er sdw it grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, aA they consist of 
such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance. 

Each of these three sentences consists of two prin- 
cipal correspondent parts ; the first commencing with 
asy and the last with so ; as the first member of the 
first sentence is simple^ it is marked with a comma 
only at dial-plate ; as the second is compounded^ it is 
marked with a semicolon at moving ; and as the last 
is decompounded^ it is marked with a colon at grow ; 
this punctuation is according to the general rules of 
pausing^ and agreeable to good sense ; for it is cer- 
/tainly proper that the time of the pause should in- 
crease with the increase and complexity of the mem- 
bers to which it is annexed^ as more time is required 
to comprehend a large and complicated member^ thaa 
a short and simple one ; but whatever may be the 
time taken up in pausing at the different points^ the 
inflection annexed to them must always be the same ; 
that is, the comma, semicolon, and colon, must invari- 
ably have the rising inflection. 

The same may be observed of the^ following sen- 
tences : 

Although I fear it may be a shame to l>e dismayed at the entrance of my 
discourse in defence of a most valiant man ; and that it no way becomes me, 
while Milo is more concerned for the safety of the state than for himself, not 
to show the same greatness of mind in behalf of him : yet this new form of 
prosecution terrifies my eye5, which, whatever way they turn, want the an- 
cient custom of the forum, and the former manner of trials. 

Cieere't Oration for Mile. 



EHETOmCAL GRAMMAR. 93 

Although^ son Marcus, a« you have now been a hearer of Cratippas for a 
ear, and this at Athens, 70a ou^t to abound in the precepts and doctrines 
of philosophy, by reason of the great character both of yoiir instracter and 
the city ; one of which can famish you with knowledge, and the other with 
•xilmples : yet, as I always to my advantage joined the Latin tongue with 
the Greek, and I have done it not only in oratory, but likewise in philoso- 
phy ; I think you ought to do the same, that you may be equally conversant 
in both languages. 

Cieero*t OfficeSf book i. chap, h 

These sentences be^n with the concessive eonjunc* 
tion although, and have their correspondent conjunc- 
tion yet ; and these conjunctions form the two princi- 
pal constructive members. The words hiniy and ex- 
amplesj therefore^ at the end of the first members^ 
must have the rising inflection^ and here must be the 
long pause. 

This rule ought to be particularly attended to in 
reading verse. Many of Milton's similes^ commenc- 
ing with the conjunction as, have the first member so 
enormously long^ that the reader is often tempted to 
drop his voice before he comes to the member begin- 
ning with the conjunction so, though nothing can be 
more certain than that such a fall of the voice is di* 
ametrically opposite to the sense. 

Thus^ in that beautiful description of the affected 
indignation of Satan, at the command of God to ab* 
stain from eating of the tree of life : 

She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold 
The temper (but with show of zeal and love 
To man, and indignation at his wrong) 
New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd 
Fluctuates distorb'd, yet comely, and in act 
Bais*d as of some great matter to begin« 
As when of old some orator renown'd 
In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
Flourish'd, since mute, to some great cause addressed, 
Stood in himself collected, while each part, 
Motion, each act won audience, ere the tongue 



94 BHETORICAIi C^BAICXAR. 

Sometimes in height began, at no delay 
Of preface brooking through his seal of right : 
So standing, moving, or to height op grown, 
The tempter all impaasion'd thus began. 

Paradue Lotl, b. is. v. M4. 

In this passage^ if we do not make a long pause with 
the rising inflection on the word rights we utterly de*. 
stroy the sense. 

In the same manner we may observe some of Ho* 
mer's similes to extend to such a length before the 
application of them to the object illustrated, that the 
printer, and perhaps Mr. Pope himself, has some* 
times concluded the first part with a full stop. 

Direct period, with only one conjunction. 

Rule II. Every direct period, consisting of two 
principal constructive parts, and having only the first 
part commence with a conjunction, requires the rising 
inflection and long pause at the end of this part 

SXAMPLES. 

As In my iqpeenlations I hare endeavoared to extinguish passion and prt- 
judice, I am still desirous of doing some good in this particular. SptdaUur, 

Here the sentence divides itself into two correspon- 
dent parts at prejudice ; and as the word so is un- 
derstood before the words / am, they must be preced- 
ed by the long pause and rising inflection. 

If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and courts of justice, as in- 
fiolence does in the country and places of less res6rt ; Aulus Caecina would 
aobmit as much to the impudence of Sextus Abutius in this cause, as he did 
before to his insolence when assaulted by him. 

If I have any genius, wiiich I am sensible can be but v^ry small ; or any 
readiness in speaking, in which I do not deny but I have been much conver- 
sant ; or any skill in oratory, from an acquaintance with the best arts, to 
which I confess I have been always inclined : no one has a better right to de- 
mand of me the fruit of all these things, than this Aulus Licinius. 

Cicero* t Oration for ^rehioi. 

If after surveying the whole earth at once, and the several planets that 
lie within its neighbourhood; we contemplate those wide fields of ether* 



ItSBTORICAL GKAmiAB. 95 

tlot veaoh In lieig^t as far as firom Saturn to tbe fixed stars, and ran abroad 
almost to an inflnitnde ; our imagination finds its capacity filled with so im- 
mense a prospect, and pats itself npon the stretch to com]^rehend it. 

JiddUon'i SpeckUor, No. 4S8. 

In the first of these examples^ the first part of the 
sentence ends at resort, and the second begins at Au- 
lus C€Bcina. In the second sentence^ the first part 
ends at inclined, and the second begins at no one ; and 
in the third; the first part ends at injiniivde^ and the 
second begins at our ; between these words^ therefore^ 
in each sentence^ must be inserted the long pause and 
rising inflection. 

All these sentences commence with a conjunction^ 
and may be said to have a correspondent conjunction 
commencing the second part of the sentence^ not ex- 
pressed but understood,. In the first sentence com- 
mencing with iff then is understood at the begining of 
the second part ; the sense of this conjunctive adverb 
then may be plainly perceived to exist by inserting it 
in the sentence^ and observing its suitableness when 
expressed. 

If iflftpodence prevailed as mach in the fonim and coorts of Justice, as in- 
solence does in the coantiy and places of less re8<^, then Aulas Caecina 
would submit as much to the impudence of Sextus iEbutius in this causej as 
be did before to his insolence when assaulted by him. 

The same insertion of the word then might be made 
in the two last examples commencing with if, and the 
same suitableness would appear ; for though correct 
and animated language tends to suppress as much as 
possible the words that are so implied in the sense as 
to make it unnecessary to express them, yet if when 
inserted they are suitable to the sense^ it is a proof 
the structure of the sentence is perfectly the same^ 
whether these superfluous words are expressed or not 



96 RHKTOKltiAL GllAMMAlt* 

The exception to this rule is when the emphatical 
word in the conditional part of the sentence is in di- 
rect opposition to another word in the conclusion^ and 
a concession is implied in the former^ in order to 
strengthen the argument in the latter : for in this case 
the middle of the sentence has the fallings and the lat« 
ter member the rising inflection. 

XXAMPLS8. 

If we have no regard for religion in ydnth, we ought to have some regard 
for it in ige. 

If we have no regard for our 6wn character, we ought to have some re- 
gard for the character of dthers. 

In these examples^ we find the words youth and omn 
cha/ra4:ter, have the falling inflection^ and both periods 
end vnth the rising inflection ; but if these sentences 
had been formed so as to make the latter member a 
mere inference from^ or consequence of^ the former^ 
the general rule would have taken place, and the first 
emphatic word would have had the rising, and the 
last the falling inflection. 

EXAMPLES. 

If we have no regard for religion in y6uthy we have seldom any regard for 
It in kge. 

If we have no regard for our 6wn character, it can scarcely be expected 
that we should have any regard for the character of others. 

Rule III. Direct periods, which commence with 
participles to the present tense, consist of two parts ; 
between which must be inserted the long pause and 
rising inflection. 

EXAMPLE. 

Having already shown how tlte fancy is affected by the works of natnre« 
and afterwards considered in general both the works of nature and of ait, 
how they mutually assist and complete each other, in forming such scenes 
and prospects as are apt to delight the mind of the beholder ; I shall in this 
paper throw together some reflectioDs on that particular art, which has a 



HHETORiCAL QIUMMAR. 97 

more immediate tendency than any other, to produce those primary pleas* 
urcs of the imagination, which have hitherto been the subject of this discourse. 

Sped. No. 416. 

The sense is suspended in this sentence till the word 
beholder^ and here is to be placed the long pause and 
rising inflection : in this place also, it is evident, the 
word now might be inserted in perfect conformity to 
the sense. 

Inverted period. 

Rule I. Every period, where the first part forms 
perfect sense by itself, but is modified or determined 
in its signification by the latter, has the rising inflec- 
tion and long pause between these parts, as in the di- 
rect period, 

EXAMPLES. 

a 

Gratian very often recommends the fine tustc, as the utTnost perfection of 
an accomplished man. 

In this sentence the first member, ending at taste, 
forms perfect sense, but is qualified by the last ; for 
Gratian is not said simply to recommend the fine 
taste, but to recommend it in a certain way ; that is, 
as the utmost perfection of an accomplished man. 
The same may be observed of the following sentence : 

Persona of good taste expect to be pl6ased, at the same time they are ia- 
formed. 

Here perfect sense is formed at pleased ; but it is not 
meant that persons of good taste are pleased in gen- 
eral, but with reference to the time when they are in- 
formed ; the words taste and pleasfd^ therefore, in 
these sentences, we must pronounce with the rising 
inflection, and accompany this inflection with a pause; 
for the same reasons, the same pause and inflection 

13 



98 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

must .precede the word thoiigh in the following exam* 
pie: 

I can desire to perceive those things that God has prepared for those that 
Idre him, thoagh they be sach as eye had not seen, ear heard, nor hath it 
entered into the heart of man to conceive. Lotht. 

Loose sentence. "^ 

A loose sentence has been shown to consist of a 
period^ either direct or inverted, and an additional 
member which does not modify it ; or, in other words, 
a loose sentence is a member containing perfect sense 
by itself, followed by some other member or members, 
which do not restrain or qualify its signification. Ac^ 
cording to this definition, a loose sentence must have that 
member, which forms perfect sense, detached from 
those that follow, by a long pau^e and falling inflection* 

As in speaking, the ear seizes every occasion of 
varying the tone of voice, which the sense will per- 
mit ; so in reading, we ought as much as possible to 
intimate the variety of speaking, by taking every op- 
portunity of altering the voice in correspondence with 
the sense : the most general fault of printers^ is, to 

* The grand defect of the points is, that only two of them, the comma 
and period, necessarily mark a continuation and completion of sense : the 
semicolon and colon, by being sometimes placed after complete sense and 
sometimes where the sense conUnues, are very fallacious guides, and often 
lead the reader to an impnf|)er turn of voice. If to the colon and semicolon 
were anneied a mark to determine whether the sense were complete or not» 
it must certainly be of the greatest assistance to the reader, as he would natu- 
rally accompanv it with a turn of voice, which w^ould indicate the complete- 
ness or incompleteness of the sense, independent on the time ; and such a. 
mark seems one of the great denderata of punctuation. I know it may be 
said that the completeness or incompleteness of tlie sense is of itself a suffi- 
cient guide, without any points at all : yes, it mav be answered, but without 
th^ gtii of prophecy we are not always able to determine at sight whether 
the sense is complete or not ; and sometimes even when we have the whole 
sentence in view, it is Xhe punctuation only that determines whether th^ mem- 
ber of a sentence belongs to what goes before, or to what follows. The 
intention of the noints is, in the first place, to fix and determine the sense, 
when it might otherwise be doubtful ; and, in the next place, to apprise the 
leader of the sense of* part of a sentence before he has seen the whole. A 
mark, therefore, which accomplishes this purpose, must unquestionably b» 
of the utmost importance to the art of reading. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 99 

mark those members of loose sentences, which form 
perfect sense, with a comma, instead of a semicolon 
or colon : and a similar, as well as the most common 
fault of readers is^ to suspend the voice at the end of 
these members, and so to run the sense of one member 
into another; by this means, the sense is obscure, 
and a monotony is produced, instead of that distinct- 
ness and variety, which arises from pronouncing these 
members with such an inflection of voice as marks a 
certain portion of perfect sense, not immediately con- 
nected with what follows ; for as a member of this 
kind does not depend for its sense on the following 
member^ it ought to be pronounced in such a manner, 
as to show its independence on the succeeding member^ 
and its dependence on the period^ as forming but a 
part of it. 

In order to convey precisely the import of these 
members, it is necessary to pronounce them with the 
falling inflection, without sufiering the voice to fall 
gradually, as^ at a period ; by which means the pause 
beconoies different from the mere comma, which sus- 
pends the voice, and marks immediate dependence on 
what follows ; and from the period, which marks not 
only an independence on what follows, but an exclu- 
sion of whatever may follow, and therefore drops the 
voice as at a conclusion. An example will assist us 
in comprehending this important inflection in reading : 

All superiority and preeminence that one man can have over another, 
may be reduced to the notion of quality, which, considered at large, is either 
that of fortune, body, or mind. The first is that which consists in birth, 
tide, or riches ; and is the most foreign to our natures, and what we can the 
least call our own, of any of the three kinds of quality. Spectalar, ^o. 219. 

In the first part of this sentence the falling inflec- 
tion takes place on the word quality ; for this member 



966761^ 



100 .tlllETORICAL GRAMMAK. 

we find contains perfect sense, and the succeeding" 
members are not necessarily connected with it; the 
same inflection takes place in the next member on the 
word nckes ; which, with respect to the sense of the 
member it terminates, and its connexion with the 
following members, is exactly under the same predica- 
ment as the former, though the one is marked with a 
comma and the other with a semicolon, which is the 
eommon punctuation in almost all the editions of the 
Spectator. A little reflection, however, will show us 
the necessity of adopting the same pause and inflec- 
tion on both the above-mentioned words, as this inflec- 
tion not only marks more precisely the completeness 
of the sense in the members they terminate, but gives 
a variety to the period, by making the first and the 
succeeding members end in a different tone of voice. 
If we were to read all the members, as if marked with 
commas, that is, as if the sense of the members were 
absolutely dependent on each other, the necessity of 
attending to this inflection of voice in loose sentences 
would more evidently appear. This division of a sen- 
tence is sometimes, and ought almost always to be, 
marked with a semicolon, as in the following sentence 
at tl^e word possess. 

EXAMPLE. 

Foolish men are more apt to consider what they have lost than what Uicy 
poss<^s9 ; and to fix their eyes upon those who are richer than themselves 
rather than those who are under greater difficulties. Sped. No. 674. 

The result of these examples is one almost invaria- 
ble rule, namely, that, however the inflections may al- 
ter upon the pauses in every other part of the sen- 
tence, yet in that part of the sc^ntence where the sense 
begins to form, we must constantly adopt the rising 



ItHUTOniCAL GHAMHAR. 101 

inflection. This is abundantly exemplified in the 
sentences already produced^ and is indeed one of the 
most general rules in reading. Those who wish to see 
a farther application of the inflections^ must consult 
Elements of Elocution^ p. 184. 

Orthoepial figures ; or^ Figures of pronunciation. 

As we call that a figure of speech which has a pe- 
culiarity of meanings and differs from the most simple 
and ordinary sense of the words ; so I call those fig- 
ures orthoepial, where the peculiarity of the phrase 
requires a peculiarity of pronunciation. Under these 
figures of orthoepy, I class the interrogation, the ex- 
clamation, and the parenthesis ; which are generally 
said, by our grammarians, to require some peculiar 
modulation of the voice : and to these I shall add 
other figures, which may be called the commencemmi^ 
the contrast^ the series^ the question and ariMoer, the 
echOf the antecedent, the variationy and the cadence. 
I shall not contend for the strictly logical propriety 
of this classification, but shall content myself with 
hoping that it may have a tendency to place several 
important particulars of pronunciation in a clearer and 
more distinct point of view ; and by that means gain 
them a more attentive consideration, and an easier ad- 
mission to the understanding. Nothing can be a 
greater proof of the advancement of science, than a 
new nomenclature. If new combinations and new 
distinctions of ideas are discovered, there must ne- 
cessarily be new terms to express them. 



109 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

7%e Interrogation. 

It must be first observed^ that^ with respect to pronun- 
ciation^ all questions may be divided into two classes ; 
namely^ into such as are formed by the interrogative 
pronouns or adverbs, and into such as are formed on- 
ly by an inversion of the common arrangement of the 
words ;* the first with respect to inflection of voice, 
except in some few cases, may be considered as pure- 
ly declarative ; and like declarative sentences, they 
require the falling inflection at the end : and the last, 
with some few exceptions, require the rising inflection 
of voice on the last word ; and it is this rising inflec- 
tion at the end, which distinguishes them from almost 
every other species of sentence : — of both these in 
their order. 

77^ indefinite question^ or the question with the inter- 
rogative words. 

Rule I. When an interrogative sentence cam- 
mences with any of the interrogative pronouns or ad- 
verbs, with respect to inflection, elevation, or depres- 
sion of voice, it is pronounced exactly like a declara- 
tive sentence. 

XXAMPLKS. 

How can he exalt his thoughts to any thing great and noble, who only 
believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into 
oblivion, and to lose his consciousness for dver? SpteUior^ J^o, 210. 

As an illustration of the rule, we need only alter 
two or three of the words to reduce it to a declara- 
tive sentence ; and we shall find the inflection, eleva- 

* Mr. Harris calls the former of these questions indefinite, and the latter 
definite ; as these may be answered by yet or no, while those oflen require a 
whole sentence to answer them. See JEfenuM, b. i. p. 151. 



RHETOMCAL GRAMMAR. 103 

tion^ and depression of voice on every part of it the 
same. 

He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, becanse he on- 
ly believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink 
Into oblivion, and to lose hb consciousness for ^ver. 

Here we perceive^ that the two sentences^ though 
one is an interrogation^ and the other a declaration^ 
both end with the same inflection of voice, and that 
the falling inflection ; but if we convert these words 
into an interrogation^ by leaving out the interrogative 
word^ we shall soon perceive the difference. 

Can he exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, who only believes 
that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into obliviooy 
and to lose his consciousness for iver P 

In pronouncing this sentence with propriety, we 
find the voice slide upwards on the last words, con- 
trary to the inflection it takes in the two former ex- 
amples. If grammarians, therefore, by the elevation 
of voice, which they attribute to the question, mean 
the rising inflection, their rule, with some few excep- 
tions, is true only of questions formed without the in- 
terrogative words ; for the others, though they may 
have a force and loudness on the last words, if they 
happen to be emphatical, have no more of that dis- 
tinctive inflection, which is peculiar to the former kind 
of interrogation, than if they were no questions at all. 
Let us take another example : — Why should not a fe- 
male character be as ridiculous in a man^ as a male 
character in one of the female sex ? Here the voice is 
no more elevated at the end, than if I were to say — 
A female character is just as ridiculous in a man^ as a 
male character in one of the female sex ; but if I say. 
Is not a female character as ridiculous in a man^ as a 



104 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

male character in one of the female sex ? Here not on- 
ly the emphasis^ but the rising inflection is on the last 
words ; essentially different from the inflection on 
these words in the first question, Why should not a 
female character be as ridiculous in a man^ as a male 
character in one of th^fefmle sex? We may presume, 
therefore, that it is the emphasis, with which 
these questions sometimes terminate, that has led the 
generality of grammarians to conclude, that all ques- 
tions terminate in an elevation of voice, and so to con- 
found that essential difference there is between a 
question formed with, and without, the interrogative 
words. 

Rule IL Interrogative sentences commencing with 
interrogative words, and consisting of members in a 
series depending necessarily on each other for sense, 
are to be pronounced as a series of members of the 
same kind in a declarative sentence. See Series^ p^g^ 
116. 

EXAMPLES. 

From whence can he produce such cogent exhortations to the practice of 
every virtue, such ardent excitement to piety and devotion, and such assist- 
ance to attain them, as those inhich are to be met with throughout every 
page of these inimitable writings ? Jenyn*t View of the Internal Bmd. p. 41. 

Where, amidst the dark clouds of pagan philosophy, can he show us such 
« clear prospect of a future at&te, the immortality of the scHil, the resurrection 
of the d6ad, and the general judgment, as in St. Paul's First Epistle to the 
Corinthians ^ Ibid, page 40. 

The definite question^ or the question withotit the in- 

teirogative words. 

Rule. I. When interrogative sentences are formed 
without the interrogative words, the last word must 
have the rising inflection. If there be an emphaticai 
Word in the last member, followed by several words 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 105 

depending on it^ which conclude the sentence^ both 
the eraphatical word and the concluding words are to 
be pronounced with the rising inflection :^ thus the 
words making oncy and cause of the shipicrecky in the 
two following examples, have idl the rising inflection. 

* 
EXAMPLSB. 

Would it not employ a beau prettily eoongjb} if, instead of eternally play- 
ing with his snuff-box, he spent some part of his time in making one ? 

Sjpect. JVb. 48. 

If the owner of a vessel had fitted it out with every thing necessary, and 
provided to the utmost of his power against the dangers of the sea, and that 
a storm should afterwards arise and break the masts, wonld any one in that 
case accuse him of being the dluse of the shipwreck ? 

DemotthefMt on the Crwon. SoUhu 

Would an infinitely wise Being make such glorious beings for so medn a 
purpose ? Can he delight in the production of such ab6rtive intelligences, 
«uch 8h6rt-lived reasonable beings ? Would he give us talents that are not 
to be exerted, capacities that are not to be gratified ? Sped, JVb. Ill* 

It is said of Diogenes, that meeting a young man who was going to a 
feast, he took him up in the street and carried him home to his friends as one 
who was running into imminent danger, had he not prevented him. What 
would that philosopher have said, had he been present at the gluttony of a 
modem meal .' 

Would not be have thought the master of a family mad, and have begged 
his servants to tie down his hands, had he seen him devour foul, fish, and 
flesh; swallow oil and vinegar, wines and spices; throw doTin salads of 
twenty different herbs, sauces of a hundred ingredients, confections and 
fruits of numberless sweets and ftdvours .'' Sped. JVb. 195. 

Should a spirit of superior rank, who is a stranger to human nature, acci- 
dentally alight upon the earth, and take a survey of its inhabitants, what 
would his notions of us hk ? Would not he think that we are a species of 
beings, made for quite different ends and purposes tha^i what we really &re ? 
Must not he imagine that we are placed in this world to get riches and h6n- 
oorv ? Would not he think that it was our duty to toil after wealth, and sta- 
tion, and title ? Nay, would not he believe we were forbidden poverty by 
threats of eternal punishment, and enjoined to pursue our pleasures under 
pain of damnation ? He would certainly imagine that we were influenced 
by a scheme of duties quite opposite to those which are indeed prescribed to 
us. Ihid, JVb. 67or 

* That is, the word one is to be pronounced as if it were an unaccented 
syllable of the word makings and as if written nmkingone. See The Differ- 
mU Forcet ofEmpkaticiU Wordt. 

14 



106 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In- these examples we fiiid^ that, however variously 
the voice may employ itself on the rest of the seaieace^ 
the concluding words on the last member must neces- 
sarily be suspended with the rising inflection. The 
only exception to this rule is^ when these interroga* 
tive sentences are connected by the disjunctive or; 
for in that case the sentence or sentences that succeed 
the conjunction are pronounced as if they were form- 
ed by the interrogative words^ or were merely declar- 
ative. 

Rule IL When interrogative sentences^ connected 
by the disjunctive or^ succeed each other^ the first 
ends with the risings and the rest with the falling in- 
flection. 

SXJkMPLXS. 

Shall we in your person cruwn Uie autiior of the public calamities, or shell 

we destroy him ? JEaehinet on the Crown, RoUm, 

Is the go6dnesS| or wisdom, of the divine Being, more manifest in this his 
preceedings ? Sput. JVb 610. 

ExclanuUion. 

This note is appropriated by grammarians to indi- 
cate that some passion or emotion is contained in the 
words to which it is annexed, and it may, therefore^ 
be looked upon as essentially distinct from the rest of 
the points ; the office of which is commonly supposed 
to be, that of fixing or determining the sense only. 
Whether a point that indicates passion or emotion, 
without determining what emotion or passion is meant, 
or if we had points expressive of every passion or 
emotion, whether this would in common usage more 
assist or embarrass the elocution of the reader, I shall 
not at present attempt to decide ; but when this point 



|t{IX£tORICAJL GRAMMAR^ 107 

• 

» applied to jsentences, which from their form might 
be supposed to be merely interrogative^ and yfet real- 
ly imply wooder, surprise, or astonishment; whea 
this use, I say^ is made of the note of exclamation, it 
mudt be eonfessed to be of no small importance ia 
readings and very justly deserve a place in grammat- 
ical punctuation. 

Thus the sentence, How mysterious are the ways of 
Ptamdence ! which naturally adopts the exclamation^ 
may, by a speaker who denies these mysteries, become 
a question, by laying a stress on the word how, and 
subjoining the note of interrogation ; as, How myste-- 
rious are the ways of Providence f Expressing our 
gratitttde, we may cpy out with rapture, ffluU have 
you done for me ! or we may use the very same words 
Bontemptuously to inquire, What have you done for 
me? intimating that nothing has been done ; the ve* 
ry different import of these sentences, as they are 
differently pointed, sufficiently show the utility pf the 
note of exclamation. 

It may not be entirely useless to take notice of a com- 
mon error of grammarians ; which is, that both this 
point and the interrogation require an elevation of 
voice. The inflection of voice proper to one species 
of question, which, it is probable, grammarians may 
have mistaken for an elevation of voice, it is presum- 
ed has been fully explained under that article : by 
the elevation of voice they impute to this point, it is 
not unlikely that they mean the pathos or energy, with 
which we usually express passion or emotion, but 
which is by no means inseparably connected with ele- 
vation of voice : were we even to suppose, that all 
passion or emotion necessarily assumes a louder tono; 



108 RHETORICAL QRAMMAII. 

it must still be acknowledged this is very diffefent 
from a higher tone of voice^ and therefore that the 
common rule is very fallacious and inaccurate. 

The truth is^ the expression of passion or emotion 
consists in giving a distinct and specific quality to the 
sounds we use^ rather than in increasing or diminish- 
ing their quantity^ or in giving this quantity any local 
direction upwards or downwards : understanding the 
import of a sentence^ and expressing that sentence 
with passion or emotion^ are things as distinct as the 
head and the heart : this pointy therefore, though use- 
ful to distinguish interrogation from emotion^ is as 
different from the rest of the points, as grammar ia 
from rhetoric ; and whatever may be the tone of voice 
proper to the note of exclamation^ it is certain the in- 
flections it requires are exactly the same^ as the rest 
of the points ; that is, if the exclamation point is plac- 
ed after a member that would have the rising inflec- 
tion in another sentence^ it ought to have the rising 
in this ; if after a member that would have the falling 
inflection^ the exclamation ought to have the falling 
inflection likewise. 

An instance that the exclamation requires no par- 
ticular inflection of voice may be seen in the follow- 
ing speech of Gracchus/ quoted by Cicero, and insert- 
ed in the Spectator^ No. 541. 

Whither shall I tjkrn ? Wretch that I Am ! to what place shall I betkke mj' 
self? Shall I go to the cdpitol? Alas! it is overflowed with my broUier*s 
blood ! Or shall I retire to my house ?. yet there I behold my mother plunged 
in misery, weeping, and dcspAiring ! 

Every distinct portion of this passage may be tru- 
ly said to be an exclamation ; and yet we find in read- 
ing it, though it can scarcely be pronounced with too 
much emotion, the inflections of voice are the same as 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 100 

if pronounced without any emotion at all : that is^ 
the portion^ Whither jfhall I turn, terminates like a 
question with the interrogative word^ with the falling 
inflection. The member^ Wretch that I am, like a 
member forming incomplete sense^ with the rising in- 
flection ; the question without the interrogative word. 
Shall I go to the capital^ with the rising inflection; 
Mas litis overflowed with my brother^ s bloody with the 
falling ; the question commencing with the disjunctive 
Ofy Or shall I retire to my house, with the falling inflec- 
tion^ but in a lower tone of voice. 

Thus we see how vague and indefinite are the gen- 
eral rules for reading this pointy for want of distin- 
guishing high and low tones of voice from those up- 
ward and downward slides^ which may be in any note 
of the voice; and which; from their radical difference 
form the most marking differences in pronunciation. 

Parenthesis. 

The parenthesis is defined by our excellent gram- 
marian; Dr. Lowth; to be a member of a sentence in- 
serted in the body of a sentence; which member is 
neither necessary to the sense; nor at all affects the 
construction. He observes also; that; in reading; or 
speaking; it ought to have a moderate depression of 
the voice; and a pause greater than a comma. 

The real nature of the parenthesis once understood, 
we are at no loss for the true manner of delivering it 
The tone of voice ought to be interrupted; as it were^ 
by something unforeseen ; and; after a pause; the par- 
enthesis should be pronounced in a lower tone of voice, 
at the end of which; after another pausC; the higher 
tone of voice, which was interrupted; should be re- 



110 BHETORICAL ORAHHUU 

sumedy that the connexion between the former and 
latter part of the interrupted a^ nteoce may be restor- 
ed. It may be obawved too^ tbat^ in order to pre- 
serve the integrity of the principal members^ the pa- 
renthesis ought not only to be pronounced in a low«r 
tone^ but a degree swifter than the rest of the period^ 
as this still better preserves the broken sense, and dis- 
tinguishes the explanation from the text For that 
ttkis is always the case in conversation, we can be 
under no doubt, when we consider that whatever is 
supposed to make our auditors wait, gives an impulse 
to the tongue, in order to relieve them, as soon as pos- 
sible, from the suspense of an occasional and unex- 
pected interruption. 

EXAMPLES. 

Notwithstanding all this care of Cicero, history informs us, that Marcm 
proved a meite blockhead ; and that nature (who it seems wms e^see wiCli the 
SOD for her prodigality to the father) rendered him incapable of improving^. 
by all the rules of eloquence, the precepts of philosophy, his own endeav- 
ours, and the most refined conversation in Athens. jfpeeta/or, JVb. S07. 

Natural historians observe (for whilst I am in the country I must fet4ih mjr 
allusions from thence) that only the male birds have voices , that their soogt 
begin a little before breeding>time, and end a little after. Ibid. JV?. IS8* 

Dr. Clarke has observed, that Homer is more perspicuous than any other 
author ; but if he is so (which yet may be questioned) the perspicuity arisee 
from his subject, and not from the language itself in which he writes. 

Ward's Grammar^ p. 802. 

Ibe many letters which come to me from persons of the best sense of both 
sexes (for I may pronounce their characters from their way of writing) do 
not a little encourage me in the prosecution of this my undertaking. 

aped. JVb. 124. 

It is this sense which furnishes the imagination with its. ideas ; so that Iff 
the pleasures of the imagination or fancy (which I shall use promiscuosuly) 
I here mean such as arise from visible objects. ibid, JVb. 411. 

We sometimes meet^ in books very respectably 
.printed, with the parenthesis marked where there 
ought to be only commas. We have an instance of 



BHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Ill 

this in Hannah More's Strictures on modern Female 
Education : where^ describing in the most picturesque 
and truly satiric style, the confusion, indifference, and 
insincerity which reigns at routs and drums, she says^ 
^^ He would hear the same stated phrkses interrapted^ 
not answered by the«same stated replies ; the unfin- 
ished sentence, ^ driven adverse to the winds' by press* 
ing multitudes ; the same warm regret mutually ex* 
changed by two friends (who had been expressly de* 
nied to each other all the winter) that they had not 
met before ; the same soft and smiling sorrow at be* 
ing torn away from each other now ; the same anxiety 
to renew the meeting, with perhaps the same secret 
resolution to avoid it.'' Vol. ii. p. 180. 

In this beautiful description, the words marked 
with the parenthesis belong essentially to the thought^ 
and therefore ought only to have been included be- 
tween commas. 

The same may be observed of a very long interven- 
ing member, in a beautiful description of intemperance 
in eatings by Pope. 

The ftomach (cramm'd from ev'ry dish, 
^ A tomb of boilM and roast) and flesh and fish, 
Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar, 
And all the man is one intestine war) 
Remembers oft the school-boy's simple fare, 
t The temperate sleeps, and spirits light as air. 

Pope*i Jmt/olton tfBoraetf Sat. ii. 

This insertion of a parenthesis where it ought not 
to be^ is by no means so common a faulty as that of 
omitting it where it ought to be inserted. Where 
it depends on nice distinctions, which h sometimes 
the case, the fault is pardonable^ but not in such as 
have been here taken notice of. 



112 



Th 



RHETORICAL GftAMliTnTT" 

The Commencem^t 



^t we shouid begin ta. pronounce whatever we 
read la little more deliberately^ than when we have 
enterid on the. subject is an observation that few will 
disseilt from. Most of our pun^tt^'sts will admit of a 
pausel after a nommati ve, when ii consists oiy^ a long 
member of a sent^e^ but none have taken notice of 
a pause at th^ beginning of eV^ sentence, which 
may very propei^ytake place after ^'single wopd^ when 
the sentence begins ^th a proper > name, dr a word 
that stands for the subject of the discourse, l^hus, in 
Mr. ^ddison's de^mption of gi^dr^ature, discretion, 
and cheerfulness';^ X ^" 

Good-teature b m^re agreeable in cimversatioiy^fui wit, and n^es a cer- 
tain air Ip the coantehffl|/cey which ^ more amiaKjle than beauty. '. - 

I \ ' / ^ ^- *ecf. Ab. 169. 

Discrdtion does not onl^ show itself in wjiris, but In all the ciittumstances 
of actioa; and is like anrader-agent of/ra)videncdw to guide and direct of 
in the oAinary conccm^of life. / /y Unf. Ab. 226. 

CheerAilness bean^the same frienffly regard wAe mind as iQr the bocfy : 
it banlsl|es alt aiftjous care and discontents, sooths and coQ^piosesythe pas- 
keeps the di^d ^n a perpetual calm/:*' 0( /^ Ibt^J^To. 387. 

In these example^ we sh^-*find ifc'Very >6foper to 
pause after the fic^ word m every >^nten(iir,«that the 
attentonmay he. better yoxed up6n wh4t forms the 
subjec t of th^ii|.' This rule, howtver/is not confined 
to such wofds as form the subje/sj^of a sentence. 
Wherfevej<a word of importance coi^mences a sentence^ 
it ougpt to be distinguished in theN^me manner by a 
pause! Thus in the following sentences : 

Man is the merriest species in the creation ; all above and below him ara 
Bferious. ~— -— - -' Bpvd. m. « »  

Hypocrisy cannot indeed be too much detested ; but at the same time it ia 
fo be preferred to open impiety. bid. A'o. 466. 



I 
I 



L 



ttHfiTORICAL GRAUUXft. Ill 

Abmory is the pnireyor of reason ; the power which plaises those tUMLges 
before the miody upon which the jud|^eat U to be exercised. Jahmnnt 

Wisdom compiehends at once the end and the means, estimates easineai 
or dlfficttlty, and is cautious or confident in due proportion. Ibid. 

Man is seldom willing to let fall the opinion of his own dignity ', he 10 
better content to want diligence than power; and sooner confesses the 
depravity of his will than the imbecility of hb nature. Ibid. 

Nature seems to have taken a particular care to disseminate her blessings 
among the different regions of the world, with an eye to their mutual inter- 
course and traflk; among mankind, that the natives .of the several parts of 
the globe mif^ht have a kind of dependence upon one another, and be united 
together by their common interest. Sped. JVb. 69. 

It is presumed that there are few readers of taste^ 
who would not prefer a pause after the first word ia 
all these sentences to such a pronunciation as should 
slide into the succeeding words without any rest at 
alL 

Another instance we may borrow from Dr. Price's 
beautiful picture of virtue. 

Virtue is of intrinsic value and good desert, and of indispensable obliga* 
Hon ; not the creature of will, but necessary and immutable ; not local or 
teoiporary, but of equal extent and antiqtiity with the divine mind ; not a 
mode of sensation, but everlasting truth ; not dependent on power, but the 
guide of all power. Virtue is the foundation of honour and esteem, and the 
source of all beauty, order, and happiness, in nature. 

Mr. Addison furnishes us with many instances^ 
where a single person begins a sentence : 

Homer is in his province when he is describing a battle or a muhitude, a 
liero or a god. Virgil is never better pleased than when he is in his elysiumt 
or copying out an entertaining picture ; Homer's persons are most of them 
godlike and terrible : Virgil has scarce admitted any into his poem who are 
not beautiful, and has taken particular care to make his hero so. 

SpeeUa^TtM. 411 

Plato expresses his abhorrence of some fables of the poets, which seem (O 
reflect on the gods as the authors of injustice ; and lays it down as a princi* 
pie, t^at whatever is permitted to befall a just man, whether poverty, sick- 
ness, or any of those things which seem to be evils, shall, either in life or 
death; conduce to his good. Sputatoff A*e. 287. 

15 



114 RHETORICAL GRAMHAB. 

Seneca has written a disconne purposely apon this snbjeet, in which h« 
takes pains, after the doctrine of the stoics, to show that adversitj is not in 
itself an evil ; and mentions a noble saying of Demetrius, ** That nothing 
would be more unhappy than a man who had never known affliction." Ibid. 

TuIIy was the first who observed that friendship improves happiness and 
abates misery, by the doubling of our joy, and dividing of our grief: a thoogfat, 
in which he hath been followed by all the essayers upon friendship that have 
written since his time. Ibid. Jfo. 68. 

In all these passages^ a good .reader will perceive 
the propriety of pausing after the first word^ which 
forms the nominative case^ or the subject of the sen- 
tence. By this pause the mind is fixed upon the 
principal object of attention^ and prepared to proceed 
with clearness and deliberation to the reception of 
what follows. 

7%6 Contrast. 

When words or phrases are placed in contrast with 
each other^ for the sake of being more distinctly pei> 
ceived and more forcibly impressed upon the roind| 
they require a longer pause than ordinary between 
the contrasted parts^ that each part may be more ac- 
curately distinguished ; and a difference in the tone 
of voice with which each is pronounced^ that this dis- 
tinction may be more powerfully enforced. The dis- 
tinction of voice I would recommend is a higher tone 
of voice upon the first part of the contrast^ and^ after 
a long pause, a lower tone upon the second. This 
mode of pronunciation will, if I mistake not, at once 
contribute to the clearness, force, and variety of the 
whole. 

It may be observed, that when the contrast is form- 
ed between two persons or things, each of which be- 
gins the member ot a sentence, they must each of 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 115 

them have the pause we should give to the coTnma j 
for though these persons or things form the nomina- 
tive case to the verb^ and consist but of a single word^ 
it will be necessary to pause . after each^ in order to 
show the contrast more distinctly. 

EXAHPLZS. 

At the same time that I think discretion the most useful talent a man can 
be master of, I looj^ upon cunning to be the accomplishment of little, mean, 
ungenerous minds. Discretion, points out the noblest ends to us, and pursues 
the most proper and laudable methods of obtaining them : cunning, has onlj 
private selfish aims, and sticks at nothing that may make them succeed. Dis- 
cretion, has large and extended views, and, like a well formed eye, commands 
a whole horizon : cunning, is a kind of short-sightedness, that discovers the 
minutest objects that are near at hand, but is not able to discern things at a 
distance. Discretion, the more it is discovered, gives a greater authority to 
the person who possesses it: cunning, when it is once detected, loses its force 
and makes a man incapable of bringing about, even those events, which he 
might have done had he passed only for a plain man. Discretion, is the per- 
fection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life : cunning, is a kind 
of instinct, that only looks out after our immediate interest and welfare. Dis- 
cretion, is only found in men of strong sense and good understanding ; cun- 
ning, is often to be met with in brutes themselves, and in persons who are 
but the fewest removes from them : in short, cunning, is only the mimic of 
discretion, and may pass upon weak men, in the same manner as vivacity is 
often mistaken for wit, and gravity for wisdom. Speetaior, J^o. 225. 

We have a shining instance of the force of constrast 
in Cicero^ where heis showing, the unequal circumstan- 
ces of Cataline when compared with those of the Ro- 
man citizens. 

But waving all other circnmstances, let us balan^ the real situation of the 
opposing parties ', from that we can form a true notion how very low our 
enemies are reduced. Here, regard to virtue, opposes insensibility to shame ; 
purity, pollution ; integrity, injustice ; virtue, viilany ; resolution, rage ; dig- 
nity, defilement ; regularity, riot. On one side, are ranged, equity, temper- 
ance, courage, prudence, and every virtue ; on the other, iniquity, luxury, 
cowardice, rashness, with every vice. Lastly, the straggle lies between wealth 
and want ; the dignity, and degeneracy of reason ; the force, and the frensy 
of the soul ; between well-grounded hope, and widely extended despair. lu 
such a strife, in such a struggle as this, even though the zeal of men were 
wanting, must not the immortal gods give such shining virtues the superiority 
over so great and such complicated vices ? Certainly. 

Ciceroni Oration agaiiul CaUUint. 



116 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In pronouncing this passage we mast carefully 
pause between every contrasted word^ or the whole 
force of the comparison will be lost ; nay^ there will 
be danger of obscuring the sense by blending together 
opposite qualities^ if we do not carefully keep them 
separate by pauses^ and at the same time give an ad- 
ditional diversity to the opposing parts by a different 
shade of sound : that is, if we do not give the former 
part of the contrast a higher sound^ and the latter a 
somewhat lower. 

The same observations will hold good in pronounc- 
ing the following passage in Cicero's Oration for 
Roscius of Ameria. 

Therefore, O ye judges ! you are now to consider, whether it is more prob- 
able that the deceased was murdered by the man who inherits his estate, of 
by him, who inherits nothing but beggary by the same death. By the man 
who was raised from penury to plenty, or by him who was brought from 
happiness to misery. By him whom the last of lucre has inflamed with the 
most inreterate hatred against his own relations ; or by him whose life was 
snch, that he never knew what gain was bnt from the product of his own la- 
bours. By him, who, of all dealers in the trade of blood, was the most auda- 
cious ; or by him who was so litUe accustomed to the forum and trials, that 
he dreads not only the benches of a court, but the veiy town. In short, ye 
judges, what I think most to this point is, you are to consider whether it is most 
likely that an enemy) or a son, would be guilty of this murder. 

The Series. 

There is a species of sentences^ which forms one 
of the greatest beauties of composition^ and which^ if 
well pronounced^ is among the most striking graces of 
delivery ; that is, where a number of particular mem- 
bers follow in a series, and form something like a gra- 
dation or climax. If we consider the nature of such a 
sentence, it will, in some measure, direct us to a just 
pronunciation of it* « It is a whole, composed of many 
particulars, arranged in such order as to show each 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 117 

pfttt distinctly, and, at the same time, its relation to 
the whole. In order to mark these particulars dis- 
tinctly, they must not be suffered to blend with each 
other ; and at the same time to show that they have a 
common relation to the whole sentence ; ^they must not 
be pronounced entirely different. In short, the simi- 
litude and diversity in the pronunciation should be ait 
exact picture of the similitude and diversity in the 
composition. For as a climax in writing ought to rise 
in force as it proceeds, so the voice, in pronouncing 
it, ought gradually to increase its* force upon every 
subsequent member. Here is the diversity ; but, as 
the members have a similar form, and stand equally 
related to the object of the sentence, they ought to have a 
similar inflection of the voice. Here is the; uniformity : 
for it is this inflection or slide of the voice that classes 
speaking sounds more specifically than ^ny other dis- 
tinction. But as these particulars, when they form a 
climax, are really emphatical, and require the falling 
slide, so every series of particulars, whether they re- 
ally increase in force or not, may, for the sake of grat- 
ifying the ear, and giving an importance to the sub- 
ject, adopt the falling inflecl^n likewise. This, how- 
ever, must be understood only as a general rule. 

These observations premised, we may proceed to 
distinguish the series into two kinds : that, where 
the series begins the sentence, but does not either end 
it, or form complete sense ; which we may call the 
commencing series : and that, where the series either 
ends the sentence, or forms complete sense ; which we 
may call the concluding series. For the pronuncia- 
tion of these different sentences, we may lay down this 
general rule. 



118 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In a commencing series^ pronounce every particu* 
]ar with the falling inflection but the last ; and in a 
concluding series^ let every member have the falling 
inflection except the last but one ; and this ought to 
have the falling inflection likewise, if it be of suflicient 
length to admit of a pause with a rising inflection be- 
fore the end. 

In order to convey as clear an idea as possible of 
the pronunciation of this figure, a plate is annexed, 
delineating the inflections of Mr. Addison's beautiful 
description of Milton^s Figure of Death. 

Commencing Series. 

To ftdvlse the ignorant, relieve the n^edy, comfort the afflicted, are duties 
that fall in our way, almost every day of our lives. Spectator, JVb. 93. 

In our country, a man seldom sets up for a poet without attacking the 
reputation of all his brothers in the art The ignorance of the modems, the 
scribblers of the ige, the decay of p6etry, are the topics of detraction, with 
which he makes his entrance into the world. Jbid, Ab. 253. 

The miser is more industrious than the saint. The pains of getting, the 
fear of losing, and the inability of enj6ying his wealth, have been the mark 
•f satire in all ages. /Wrf. Jfo. 624. 

When ambition pulls one way, interest another, inclination a third, and 
perhaps reason contrary to dll, a man 'w likely to pass his time but ill, who 
has 90 many different parties to please. /Wrf. JVb. 162. 

As the genius of Milton was wonderfully turned to the sublime, his subject 
is the noblest that could have entoMd into the thoughts of man ; eveiy thing 
that is truly great and astonishin^as a place in it : the whole system o( 
the intellectual world, the chaos and the creation, heaven, earth, and h^ll, 
enter into the constitution of his poem. Ibid. JVb. 316. 

Labour or exercise ferments the hilimours, casts them into their proper 
channels, throws off rediindancies, and helps nature in those secret dlstrib6- 
tions, without which the body cannot subsist in its vigour, nor the soul act 
with cheerfulness. iWrf. JVb. 116. 

Were the books of our beat authors to be retailed to the public, and ev- 
ery page submitted to the taste of forty or fifty thousand readers, I am afraid 
wp should complain of many flat expressions, trivial observations, beaten 
liipicsi and common th6ughts, which go off veiy well in tlie lump. 

Ibid. Ab. 124. 

To preserve in Macbeth a just consistency of character, to make that 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 119 

character nattirally susceptible of those desires that were to be commdni^at- 
ed to it, to render it interesting to the spectator by some amiable quklities, 
to make it eiempiify the dangers of ambition, and the terrors of remt^rse, 
was all that could be required of the tragedian and the moralist. 

Mrt. Montague's Estay on Shakspecare, p. 198^. 

The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, and full of 
aublime ideas. The figur^of D^th, the regal ^rown upon his h^, his men^ 
ace to Sktan, hb advancing to the combat, the outcry at his birth, are cir- 
cumstances too noble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to 
this king of terrors. J^eei. JVb. 310. 

Aristotle observes, that the fable of an epic poem should abound in circum- 
stances that are both credible and astonishing. Milton's Cable is a master- 
piece of this nature ; as the war in heaven, the condition of the fallen kngels, 
the state of Innocence, the temptation of the serpent, and the fall of min, 
though they are very astonishing in themselves, are not only credible, but ac- 
tual points of faith. Ibid. J^To. 316. 

The inconveniences of attendance on great men are more lamented than 
felt. To the greater number, solicitation is its own reward. To be seen in 
good company, to talk of familiarities with men in ptjwer, to be able to tell 
the freshest ndws, to gratify an inferior circle with predictions of increase or 
decline of fkvour, and to be regarded as a candidate for high 6ffices, are com* 
pensations more than equivalent to the delay of favours, which, perhaps, 
he that asks them, ha3 hardly the confidence to expect. Johnson, 

Let a man's innocence be what it wHl, let his virtues arise to the highest 
pitch of perfection attainable in this life, there will still be in him so many 
secret sins, so many human frailties, so many offences of ignorance, passion, 
and prejudice, so many unguarded words and thoughts, and, in short, so many 
defects in his best dctlons, that, without the advantages of such an expiation 
and atonement as Christianity has revealed to us, it is impossible that he 
should be cleared before his sovereign Judge, or that he should be able to 
stand in his sight. < Sped. J^o. 513. 

I would fain ask one of those bigoted infidels, supposing all the great pointa 
of atheism, as the casual or eternal formation of the w6rld, the materiality of 
a thinking substance, the mortality of the suul, the fortuitous organization of 
the b6dy, the motion and gravitation of matter, with the like particulars^ 
were laid together, and formed into a kind of creed according to the opin- 
ions of the most celebrated atheists ; I say, supposing such a creed as this were 
formed and imposed upon any one people in the worid, whether it would not 
require an infinitely greater measure of faith than any set of articles which 
they so violently oppose ? Ibid. J^o, 168. 

Concluding Series. 

Our lives, says Seneca, are spent either in doing nothing at ^l, or in do- 
ing nothing to the piupose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do. 

Ibid, Jfo, 08. 

It was necessary for the world that arts should be invented and improved, 



120 RHETOEICAL GBAMMARf 

hooks written and transmitted to poBtkitfj natioiis eon<|aer0d and fl^viliMd. 

IM. JVo. 266. 
All other acU of peipetuating our ideas, except writing or printing, contin- 
ue but a short time -. statues can last but a few thousand of y^ars, edifices 
fhweTf and colours still fewer than ^ifioes. ibid, JVo. 166. 

This persuasion of the truth of the gospel, without the evidence which ae- 
companies it, would not have been so firm and so dCkrable; it would not have 
acquired new force with kge, it would not have resisted the torrent of time, 
and have passed firom age to age to our own d^ys. 

Iiife consists, not of a series of illustrious actions, or elegant enjoyments ; 
the greater part of our time passes in compliance with nec^ities, in the per* 
formance of daily di!ities, in the removal of small inconveniences, in the pro- 
curement of petty pleasures. Johnson, 

A man l^as frequent opportunities of mitigating the fierceness of a p^ity* 
of doing justice to the character of a deserving mkn, of softening the dnvioua« 
quieting the Angry, and rectifying the prejudiced ; which are all of them em* 
ployments suited to a reasonable nature, and bring great satisfaction to the 
person who can busy himielf in them with discretion. Spettaior. 

Though we seem grieved at the shortness of life in general,' we are wish* 
ing every period of it at an end. The minor longs to be at kge, then to 
be a man of business, then to make up an estate, then to arrive at h6noun, 
then to retire. IMd. JVb. 98. 

There is no blessing of life comparable to the enjoyment of a discreet and 
▼irtuous friend. It eases and unloads the raind, clears and improves the un- 
derst^ding, engenders thoughts and knowledge, animates virtue and good 
jres61utions, and finds employment for the most vacant hours of life. 

Spectator, JVb. OS. 

The devout man does not only believe, but fe^Is there is a Deity ; he has 
actual sensations of him ; his experience concurs with his rdason ; he sees 
him more in all his intercourses with him ; and even in this life almost loses 
his faith in conviction. ibid. JVb. 466. 

The ill-natured man, though but of equal parts with the good-natured man, 
gives himself a larger field to exp&tiate in ; he exposes those failings in hu- 
man nature which the other would cast a veil over, laughs at vices which 
the other either excuses or conceals, falls indifferently upon friends or Ene- 
mies, exposes the person who has obliged him, and, in short, sticks at nothing 
that may establish his character of a wit. Ibid. JVb. IG9. 

For what can interrupt the content of the fair sex, upon whom one age 
has laboured after another to confer honours and accumulate immi^nities f 
those, to ^vhom rudeness is infamy, and insult is cowardice ? wbo$e eye com- 
mands tlie brave, and whose smile softens the severe ? whom the sailor trav- 
els to adorn, the soldier bleeds to def6nd, and the poet wears out life to c^e- 
brate ; who claim tribute from every art and science, and for whom all wh9 
approach them endeavour to multiply delights, without requiring from them 
any return but willingness to be pleased. Johnaon. 

Nature has laid out all her art in beautifying the face ; she has touched it 



BHETORICAL GRAKKAR. 121 

wtth TormllKoii, planted ia it a double row of Wory, made it the seat of smilefl 
and blJtehes, lighted it up and enlivened it with the brightness of the ^yes, 
hung it on each side with curious organs of s^nse, given it airs and graces 
that cannot be described, and surrounded it with such a flowing shade of 
hair, 9k sets all its beauties in the most agreeable light ^eclaior, JVo. 96. . 

Nothing is more pleasant to the fancy, than to enlarge itself by degrees, in 
its contemplation of the various proportions which its several objects bear to 
each other, when h compares the body of man to the bulk of the whole 
^arth, the earth to the circle it describes round the si^n, that circle to the 
sphere of the fixed st^, the sphere of the fixed stars to the circuit of the 
whole crektion, the whole creation itself to the infinite space that is every 
where diffused abcHit it : or when the imagination works d6wnward, and 
considers the bulk of a human body in raspect of an animal a hundred times 
leSss than a mtte, the particular limbs of such an animal, the different springs 
which Actuate the limbs, the spirits which set these springs a-g^ing, and the 
proportionable minuteness of these several parts, before they have arrived at 
their full growth and perfection. Spectator ^ JVb. 420. 

Should the greater part of the people sit down and draw up a particular 
account of their time, what a shameful bill would it be ! So much in eating, 
and drinking, and sleeping, beyond what nature requires ; so much in revel- 
ling and wantonness ; so much for the recovery of last night's intemperance ; 
#0 much in gaming, plays, and masqueriides ; so much in paying and receiv- 
ing formal and impertinent visits ; ao much in idle and foolish prating in 
censuring and reviling our neighbours ; so much in dressing out our bodies 
and talking of fushions ; and so much wasted and lost in doing nothing at ML 

Sherlock. 

Question and Answer. 

When a speaker puts a question to himself^ and 
immediately answers it^ he becomes as it were two 
persons : and as in all interlocutory discourse^ we 
find the person who questions and he who answers 
assume a somewhat different tone of voice^ so a 
speaker who assumes both these personages ought 
also to assume the different tones they make use of; 
that is^ the question should be pronounced in a high- 
er^ a more open and declarative tone^ and the answer^ 
(after h long pause,) in a lower, firmer, and more def* 
inite one. Such a distinction of voice is not only 

proper to distinguish the sense of each sentence, and 

16 



122 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

to keep them from blending together^ and confuaing 
the thought^ but it gives a more emphatic turn to 
the meaning, and gratifies the ear by its variety. 
This figure of speaking is often adopted by the best 
orators, and merits careful attention in pronouncing 
it Thus Cicero, in his oration for Mura&na^ makes 
use of this figure, where he says — 

But to return to what 1 proposed ; away with the name of Cato from 
this dispute ; a(way with all authority, which in a court of justice ought to 
have no other influence but to save. Join issue with me upon the crimes 
themtelres. What^s your charge, Cato ? What is to be tried ? What do you 
offer evidence of? Do you impeach'' corruption ? I do not defend it. Do 
yon blame me for defending, by my pleading, what I punbbed by law ? I 
answer; that I punbhed corraption and not Innocence : as to corruption, if 
you please, I will go hand in hand with yourself in impeaching it. 

In pronouncing this passage, we may observe that 
the answers, / do not defend it — / answer, that I 
punished corruption and not innocence, ought to be 
preceded by a long pause^ and pronounced in a lower 
tone of voice, than the questions to which they relate. 

We have another example of this figure in his 
oration for C»lius : 

The charge of poisoning now only remains to be discussed ; of which I can 
neither see the foundation, nor anrarel the design. For what reason could 
Caslius have to endcsavour to poison that lady ? That he might not pay back 
the gold ? Pray did she demand it? To avoid the discovery of his guilt ? 
But who charged him ? Who would even have mentioned it, had not Cslius 
impeached a certain person ? 

In this passage we find one question answered by 
another; and that question in the first instance, 
Praij did she demand it ? requiring the rising inflec- 
tion at the end. In this case, however, notwith- 
standing the qu/sstion ends with the rising turn of 
voice, the whole must be pronounced in a lower tone 
than the question which precedes it. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 128 

But one of the most animated figures of this kind 
we find in his oration for Milo : 

Were the situation of thiog;8 to be expressed in paintings instead of words, 
yoa might then distinguish the traitor from the undesigning person : as the 
one was sitting in his chariot, wrapped up in his cloalc, and his wife by his 
side ; it is hard to say if the cloalc, the chariot, or the companion, was the 
greatest impediment to such an intention. For what can carry less the 
appearance of a design to fight, than a man entangled with a cloaic, shut up 
in a chariot, and almost fettered by a wife P Now, my lords, survey Clodius 
first leaving his seat in a huny. For what reason ? In the eisening. Upon 
what emergency ? Late. To what purpose, especially at this season ? He 
strikes off to Fompey's country-house. Why ? That he might visit Pompey P 
He knew he was at his seat by Albium. Was it to view his house ? He 
had been in it a thousand times. Then what could be his motive for all this 
sauntering and shifting ? Why, to loiter ; to gain time, thut he might be sure 
to be on the spot when Milo came up. 

The three first questions in this example have no 
answers^ but are still to be pronounced in a higher 
tone of voice than the affirmative propositions^ In the 
eveningj LaiCy He strikes off to Pompey* s country-' 
house. But the succeeding questions have all an- 
swers^ which must^ after a considerable pause^ adopt 
a lower tone of voice than the questions that precede 
them. 

JEc/m). 

I have adopted 'this name for want of a better^ to 
express that repetition of a word or thought^ which 
immediately arises from a word or thought that pre- 
ceded it Thus Mr. Phillips^ in Chandler's Parlia- 
mentary Debates : 

Sir, I should be much surprised to hear the motion made by the honourable 
gentleman, who spoke last but one, opposed by any member in this house. 
A motion, founded in jastioe, supported by precedent, and warranted by 
necessity. 

Here the word wMm^ may be called the echoing 
wordy which ought always to be pronounced as if 



124 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

marked with a note of admiration ; that is^ with the 
rising inflection in a high tone of voice, and a long 
pause after it, when it implies any degree of passion, 
as in this escample ; but when it is merely narrative 
or didactic, as in the following passage : 

Tally was the first who observed that friendship improves happiness and 
abates misery, by the doubling of our joy, and dividing of our grief : a 
thought, in which be hath been followed by all the essayers upon friendship 
that have w^ritten since his time. Speciaior^ Ao. 68. 

Here the word thmigkl ought to have the rising 
inflection^ and a pause after it, but must not be in 
the tone which the word motion in the former ex- 
ample required^ as it is plain, sedate reasoning, and 
totally devoid of passion. But in a speech of Mr. 
Pitt, before he was Lord Chatham, we find the ech- 
oing word require the same inflection and pause as 
in the last example, but accompanied with the high 
impassioned tone heard in the first : 

I cannot say, sir, which of these motives influence the advocates of the bill 
before us ; a bill in which such cruelties are proposed as are yet unknown 
among the most savage naUons ; such as slavery has not yet borne or tyranny 
invented ; such as cannot be heard without resentment, nor thought without 
horror. Chandler' t Debates, 1740. 

But the most beautiful example of this figure, in 
our, or perhaps in any other language, is that we 
meet with in Hannah More's Strictures on Femcde 
Education. Speaking on dissipation and the mod- 
ern habits of life, and particularly on the spirit of 
gaming, she says^ 

With ** mysterious reverence" 1 forbear to descant on those serious and 
Interesting rites, for tlic more august and solemn celebration of which fashion 
nightly convenes these splendid myriads to her more sumptuous temples. 
Rites ! which, when engaged in with due devotion, absorb the whole soul, 
and call every passion hito exercise, except those indeed of love and peace, 
and kindness and gentleness. Inspking iite^ which stimulate fear, rouse 
hope, kindle zeal, quicken dulness, shaipeo discernment, exercise memory. 



BQETORICAL GRAMMAR. 125 

inflame curiosity ! Rites ! in short, id the due perfonnance of which, all the 
energies and attentions, all the powers and abilities, all the abstraction and 
exertion, all the diligence and devotedness, all the sacrifice of time, all (hf 
contempt of ease, all the neglect of sleep, all the oblivion of care, all the risks 
of fortune, (half of which, if directed to their true objects, would change the 
very face of the world,) ail these are concentrated to t>ne point : a point 1 in 
which the wise and the weak, the learned and the ignorant, the fair and the 
frightful, the sprightly and the dull, the rich and the poor, the patrician and 
plebeian meet in one common uniform equality : an equality ! as religiously 
respected in these solemnities, in which all distinctions are levelled at a blow, 
and of which the very spirit is therefore democratical, as it is combated in 
aH other instances. 

This passage is at once a brilliant example of the 
echo and the series ; and one hardly knows which 
to admire most, the beautiful structure of the sen- 
tences, the varied and animated imagery of the 
thought^ or the philosophical justness of the moral 
sentiment. 

In pronouncing this beautiful passage^ the word 
rites must become more emphatical with the rising 
inflection every time it is repeated^ and the pauses 
after it longer. The words point and equality ought 
to have the same pause and inflection^ and the several 
series to be pronounced according to the rules 
under that head^ page 11^. 

Cicero^ pleading before Cssar for king Dejotarus; 
says, 

What shaQ I say of his conmge, what of his magnanimity, his gravity, his 
firmness ? Qua^tViex / which all the wise and learned allow to be tfie greatest 
and some the only blessings of life, and which enable virtue not only to enjoy 
«MMnfort but happtness. 

Again, pleading for the same client, he says, 

The man then who was not only pardoned, but distinguished by you with the 
highest honors, is charged with an intention to kill you in his own house. An 
vntenjtionj of which, unless you imagine that he is utterty deprived of reason, 
you cannot suspect him. 

Here the words qudlUies and intention require the 
rising inflection^ with a long pause after them, accom- 



126 RHETOBICAL GRAMMAH* 

panied with a considerable degree of admiratioii and 
surprise. 

. The same pause^ inflection of voice^ surprise, and 
admiration^ must accompany the word laws^ in the 
following passage in his first oration against Antony. 

By the dead are Uie banished recalled. By the dead are the privilegeB df 
Rome bestowed) not on private persons only, bnt upon whole nations and 
pnnriaees. By the dead, members of corporations have their tribute remit- 
ted. We therefore confirm whatever, upon a single but onquestlonable evi- 
dence, has been produced from this house ; and shall we think of ratifying 
the nctf of Csesar, yet abolish his laws f Those laws which he himself, in 
our sight, repented, pronounced, enacted ? Laua which he valued himself upon 
passing ? Law* in which he thought the system of our government was 
comprehended? Lawt which concern our provinces and our trials? Are 
we, I say, to repeal such laws, yet ratify his acts ? Tet may we at least 
complain of those which are only proposed ; as to those which we pass, we 
are deprived even of the liberty to complain. 

In pronouncing this passage, it ought to be observ- 
ed; that the echoing word laws ought to be pronounc- 
ed with increasing force upon every repetition, which 
will give it a climax pf importance, and greatly add 
to the variety of it. This mode of pronunciation will 
be more peculiarly proper upon the same word in an- 
other passage in his oration agunst Piso. 

During all this time, who ever heard you, I will not say act or remonstrate, 
but so much as speak or complain ? Can you imagine yourself to have been 
a consul, when, under your government, the man who had saved his coun- 
try, who had saved the majesty of the senate, — ^when the man who had led in 
triumph into Italy, at three several times, the inhabitants of every quarter of 
the worid, declared that he coold not safely appear in public? Were 
you consuls at the time, when, as soon as you began to open your months 
upon any affiur, or to make any motion in the senate, the whole assembly 
cried out, and gave you to understand, diat you were not to proceed to 
business before you had put the question for my retnm ', when, though fet- 
tered by the convention you had made, you yet told them, that you wished, 
with all your heart, that yon were not bound up by law ? A latr, which did 
not appear to be binding upon private subjects ; a lots, branded upon this con- 
stitution by the hands* of slaves, engraved by violence, imposed by ruffians j 
wliile the senate was abolished, all our patriots driven out of the forum ; the 
republic in captivity ; a teiff, contradictoiy to all other laws, and passed with« 



RHETORICAL 6RA1UIAR. 127 

out tny of the asoal foitns. The consuls, who could pretend they. were a- 
fraid of such a law as this, were ignorant of the laws, the institutions, and the 
ri^ts, of that very state in which they pretended to a share of the goyemment 

Antecedent. 

Pronouns that are antecedents to some relative are 
(rften pronounced without accent, and by that means 
render the sense of the sentence feeble and indistinct. 
The antecedent and the relative are correspondent 
words, which ought to be distinctly, though not em- 
phatically, marked, in order to show the precise mean- 
ing of a sentence. When pronouns are not antece- 
dent to a relative, ihey are often pronounced without 
accent ; and as the words they refer to are sufiKciently 
understood, this unaccented pronunciation produces 
no obscurity. Thus in the following sentence : 

He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, because he only 
befieves that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into 
oblivion, and to lose his consciousness for ever. 

Here the person spoken of is supposed to be under- 
stood, and there is no necessity of laying even accen- 
tual stress on the word he : but in the following sen- 
tence : 

He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, who only be- 
lieyes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink int« 
oblivion, and lose his consciousness for ever. 

Here we find the pronoun he the antecedent to the 
relative whoy and perceive the necessity of giving it 
an accent, and making a considerable pause after it. 

When the relative immediately follows the antece- 
dent, the antecedent requires an accent and pause af- 
ter it in the same manner. 

He, that pursues fame with just claims, trusts his haj^iness to the winds ; 
but he, that endeavours after it by false merit, has to fear^ not only the vio- 
lence of the storm, but the leaks of his vessel. Johtmri' 



139S RUSTORICAL SftAMMAR. 

TTiis passage wiW want much of its force atid prc- 
cision, if we do not lay an accent on the pronoun he^ 
and make a sensible pause after it. 

The same may be observed of the following sen- 
tence. 

He, that is lewdly prtiiBed, will be clftmoroiisly ceBMred ; h»y that ritft 

hastily into fame, will be in danger of sinking suddenly into oblivion. 

Ibid. 

An attention to the foregoing rule will direct us in 
some doubtful cases, and give a decision to what might 
otherwise appear equivocal. Thus, when Zanga, in 
the Revenge, is applauding himself for his conduct^ 
and apologizing for the obliquity of it, he says^ 

And greater sure my merit, who, to gain 
A point sublime, could such a task sustain. 

It has already been observed, that when the pro- 
noun my is in opposition to any other possessive pro- 
noun, it is emphatical, and requires the sound rhym- 
ing with high. In this instance, herhaps, it may be 
said that my is emphatical, as it points out the person 
of the speaker in contradistinction from every other^ 
and therefore requires the open sound of y with a de- 
gree of force upon it ; and that who is here not deter- 
minative, but explicative ; that is, it does not neces- 
sarily restrain the merit to him, because he acts in 
that manner, but only expatiates on the merit by way 
of supplement. This may possibly be the case ; but 
since the sense will admit of the who^s being deter* 
minative, pronouncing the my with the emphatic sound 
takes away all doubt, and gives a completeness to the 
sense, as well as plenitude to the sound of the line. 

There is the same necessity for accentual force and 
a pause, when the pronoun is in the objective, as when 
it is in the nominative case. 



RHETOitlCAL GRAMMAR^ 13$ 

A ffltii «vtU h»tt bis serrant jiiA, <tt|geiit, sober, and chaMe, for no otheir 
reason bat the terrour of losing his master's favour, when all the laws, divine 
and human, cannot keep Am whom he serves within bounds, with relation to 
Any one «f €iese viTtaes. Sped. JVb. 2Q2. 

This rule leacfe us to decide upon the pronunciation 
of the pronoun^ when in the objective case, and when 
the relative to which it corresponds is not expressed 
but understood. 

From what has been observed, we may conclude, 
that, whenever there is an antecedent and a relative, 
there is a necessary connexion, which requires the for- 
mer always to have accentual force, to intimate that 
the relative is^n view, and in some measure to antici- 
pate the pronunciation of it. 

BXAMPtX. 

As foHy atad inconsiderateness are the foundations of inftdetity, the great 
piDars and supporters of Jt are either the vanity of spearing wiser than the 
rest of mankind, or in ostentation of courage in despising the terrours of an- 
other world, which have so great an influence on what they call weaker 
minds; or an aversion to a belief, which must cut them off from many of 
those pleasures they propose* to themselves, and fill them with remorse for 
many of them they have already tasted. SpedtUor, Jfo. 135. 

The antithesis in the latter part of this sentence 
may at first sight seem to require an emphasis oil 
thenif as opposed to those pleasures they propose to 
themselves ; but if we examine the state of the antithe- 
sis more narrowly, we shall find thatlhe opposite parts 
will be sufficiently contrasted without a stress on them, 
since ^ the sense would be perfect without this word ; 
but as there is a relative understood before the word 
they, we find the propriety of a stress on the antece- 
dent therriy in order to correspond to the elliptical rel- 
ative. 

Hannah More, whose language is so pointed and 
perspicuous, so rich, and at the same time so correct, 

17 



130 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

had less need, perhaps, than most writers to mark 
emphatical words in Italics ; yet her knowledge of 
just pronunciation has induced her to mark an ante- 
cedent pronoun, that its correspondence with it» 
relative might be sufficiently intimated. This occurs 
in a passage which contains, perhaps, 

What oft was thoughti but ne^er so well express'd. Pope. 

Thus the weakest reasoners are always the most positive in debate : and 
the cause is obvious ; for they are unavoidably driven to 'maintain their pre- 
tensions by violence, who want arguments and reasons to prove that they 
are in the right. Stricture* on Modem Female Edueationf vol. ii. p. 16. 

Varialion. 

The causes of variety in reading and speaking are 
felt in their effects, but are very difficult to describe. 
The play of a melodious voice, from high to low, from 
loud to soft, or from quick to slow,' charms us with 
the pleasing transition from one to the other ; but 
affords so little ground for investigating the princi- 
ples on which it depends, that the generality of 
writers on this subject content themselves with advis- 
ing their readers to observe the best pronouncers, 
and to follow them as closely as possible. This ad- 
vice is certainly very rational, though not very satis- 
factory. Rules are the soul of art and science ; and 
he who can trace one in an art which was supposed 
to be incapable of rules, has added something, how- 
ever small, to the mass of general knowledge. A 
conviction of this has encouraged me to offer a few 
rules for varying the voice in reading, by an atten- 
tion to the inflection of voice on certain parts of a 
sentence, where at first sight there appears to be no 
necessity for any alteration of voice j or if there were, 



ttHBTORICAL GRAMMAR. 131 

» 

that any such alteration is perfectly arbitrary : both 
these mistakes^ however, will be rectified by attend- 
ing to the pronunciation of the following sentence : 

When I am in a serious humour, I very often walk by myself in Westmin- 
ster Al>bey ; where the gloominess of the plkce, and the use to which it is 
appliedi with the solemnity of the building, and the condition of the people 
who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of m^ancholy, or rather 
tho6ghtfulness, that is not disagreeable. Sped. Kb. 428. 

If the latter members of this sentence, which are 
very properly marked with commas, were all to have 
the same inflection, (or suspension of voice, as it is 
commonly called,) the monotony would strike every 
one : but let the falling inflection be placed on placCy 
buUdingf and mind, and an agreeable variety will suc- 
ceed the monotone, which will convince us that this 
variety arises from the regular variation of inflection 
upon successive members of the sentence. 

Under the article series it has been seen how much 
force and variety arise from pronouncing the several 
successive members with an appropriate inflection of 
voice. It may in the same manner be observed, that 
wherever similar members occur, though no more than 
three, a variation of inflection may be adopted with 
advantage. Thus, in the following example : 

Ciood nature is more agreeable in conversation than wit, and gives a cer- 
tain air to the countenance, which is more amiable than beauty. It shows 
virtue in the fairest light, takes off in some measure from the deformity of 
vice, and makes even folly and impertinence supportable. Speet. JVb. 169. 

In the last sentence of this example, by placing the 
falling inflection on light at the end of the first member, 
we shall diversify it from the next member, which must 
have the rising, and so form an agreeable cadence. 

In the same manner, where there are three mem- 
bers in the former part of a sentence before the sense 



]|S9 RHETORIC All &R4IIHAR. 

begins to form^ the falling inHection upon the antepe* 
nultimate member^ as it nay be called^ wiU give an a- 
greeable variety to the whole. 

The philosopher, the saint, or the h6ro ; the wise, the good, or the great 
man ; very often lie hid and concealed in a plebeian, which a proper edac4|- 
lion might have tUsinterred and have brought to light Sped. JVb.21&. 

Here^ by placing the falling inflection on hero, we 
shall diversify it from the rising on plebeian, and add 
considerably to the harmony of the cadence. 

It may be observed^ when the first principal eon* 
structive member of a sentence extends to a consider- 
able length before the sense begins to form, that, as 
soon as the sense begins to form, the voice ought to 
take every occasion of relieving the ear from the 
sameness which was necessary to connect the sense 
in the first member ; and for that purpose the falling 
inflection should be adopted as soon as possible at the 
beginning of the second member, both in order to pro- 
duce a variety and to form a cadence. 

As the noblest mien, or most graceful action, would be degraded and ob- 
scured by a gaib appropriated to the gross employments of rustics or mechan- 
ics, so the most horoic s^attments will lose their efficacy, and the most 
splendid id6as drop their magnificence, if they are conveyed by words used 
commonly upon low and trivial occasions. Joknton. 

In this sentence, as the voice must preserve a same- 
ness on the subordinate pauses till it comes to mechah- 
ies, where it adopts the rising inflection and long 
pause, so it must adopt the falling inflection on senti- 
ments and ideas, to relieve the ear from that sameness, 
and form a cadence. 

Nearly the same observations hold goad in the fol- 
lowitig sentence : 

As beanty of body, with an agreeable carriage, pleases the eye, and that 
^eosure coofiists in observing that all the parts have a certain elegance, vo4 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 133 

«re proportioned to each 6ther; so does beadty of behkviour, whieh appears 
In oi:r lives, obtain the approbation of k\\ with whom we converse, from the 
order^ consbteney, and moderatioo of our words and actioDS. 

Spectator f Ab. 104. 

Here the aense extends to other before it begins to 
form^ and^ consequently^ the voice must be carried on 
with little variation till that word is pronounced with ' 
the rising inflection and long pause ; after which the ^ 
voice roust adopt the rising inflection on beauty^ and 
the falling on behaviour; the falling both on approbation^ 
and the word aU ; when the cadence must be formed 
by the falling inflection on order and consistency^ the 
rising on moderation; and the rising on wordsy and 
the falling on actions^ the voice descending in a grad- 
ually lower tone. 

On ilie period J and the method of forming a cadence. 

When a sentence is so far perfectly finished^ as not 
to be comnected in construction with the following sen- 
tence^ it is marked with a period. This point is in 
general so well understood^ that few grammarians 
]have thought it necessary to give an express example 
of it ; though there are none who have inquired into 
punctuation who do not know^ that in loose sentences 
the period is frequently confounded with the colon. 
But though the tone with which we conclude a sen- 
tence is generally well understood^ we cannot be too 
careful^ in pronunciation, to distinguish it as much as 
possible from that member of a sentence whieh con- 
tains perfect sense, and is usually pointed with a co- 
lon. Such members, which may not be improperly 
called sentetUiokBy or little sentences, require the fal- 
ling inflection, but in a higher tone than the preced- 
ing words, as if we had only finished a part of what 



134 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

we had to say ; while the period requires the falling 
inflection in a lower tone, as if we bad nothing more 
to add. But this final tone does not only lower the 
last word ; it has the same influence on those which 
more immediately precede the last ; so that tlie ca- 
dence is prepared by a gradual fall upon the conclud- 
ing words, every word in the latter part of a sentence 
sliding gently lower, till the voice drops upon the last. 
This will more evidently appear upon repeating the 
following sentence. 

This persuasion of ihe truth of the gospel, without the evidence which accom- 
panies it, would not have been lo firm and so durable : it would not have 
acquired new force with age : it w6uld not have resisted the torrent of time« 
and have passed from ^ge to dge to our 6wn dkys. 

We find perfect sense formed at the word durable ; 
but as this does not conclude the sentence, these words^ 
though adopting the falling inflection, are pronounc- 
ed in a higher tone than the rest : the same may be 
observed of the word ag€j which ends the second mem- 
ber ; while in the last member not only the word days 
is pronounced lower than the rest, but the whole mem- 
ber falls gradually into the cadence, and have passed 
from age to age to our own days. 

Let us take another example : 

It was said of Socrates, that he brought philosophy down from heaven to 
inhabit among men -, and I shall be ambitious to have it said of me, that I 
have brought philosophy out of cl6sets and libraries, schools and colleges, to 
dwell in clilibs and ass6mblies, at t^a-tables and in coffee-houses. 

SpectatoTf JVb. 10. 

When this sentence is properly read, every ear will 
perceive a peculiar harmony in the cadence, but few 
will judge from whence it proceeds. If we analyse it, 
we shall see that four accented words are contrasted 
with other four, and that the inflections on each are 
in an exactly opposite order. This number of accent- 



.RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 135 

ed words^ and this order of the inflectioDs, is so agree- 
ahle to the ear^ that a judicious reader will endeavour 
to fall into it as often as the sense will permit him, as in 
the preceding example ; and if the sense will only allow 
him four accented words, as in the following example, 
he will be sure to preserve the same arrangement of 
inflections. 

Nature seems to have designed the head as the cupola to the most glorU 
•us of her works : and when we load it with such a pile of superhumerarj 
ornaments, we destroy the symmetry of the human fignre, and fo6lishly 
contrive to cdll off the 6ye from great and real beauties, to childish gdwgaws, 
ribbons, and bone-Ikce. Speelatorf Ab. 98. 

In pronouncing this finishing sentence of the essay, 
we ought to begin the cadence after the word figure ; 
then to let the voice play up and down upon the words 
^oolisKly and contrive^ call off, and the eye ; that is, to 
ff^ve foolishly the rising and contrive the falling inflec- 
tion — the words ccUl off the rising, and tlie eye the fal- 
ling : then the last member after beauties, consisting 
of f6ur accented words, should have the two inflections 
arranged as they are in the example ; that is, falling, 
rising, rising, falling, and these to be pronounced in 
a gradually descending tone till the close of the sen- 
tence. 

But here it will be absolutely necessary to observe, 
that though the period generally requires the falling 
inflection, every period does not necessarily adopt 
this inflection in the same tone of voice : if sentences 
are intimately connected in sense, though the gram- 
matical structure of each may be independent on the 
other, they may not improperly be considered as so 
many small sentences making one large one, and thus 
requiring a pronunciation correspondent to their log- 
ical dependence on each other : hence it may be laid 



136 RHETORICAL &RAM1IAR. 

Amm as a general nile^ that a series of periods in reg« 
ular suceession are to be pronounced as erery other 
series ; that is^ if they follow each olb^ regularly as 
parts of the same observatioat they are to be pronaunc** 
ed as parts^ and not as wholes. 

BKAMPLBS. 

Some men cannot discern between a noble and a m^n aietian. Otheri 
are apt to attribate them to some false end or intention, and others purpose- 
ly mbrep^esent or put a wrong interpretation on them. Sped. JVb. 266. 

Thongh the ^first part of this passage is marked 
with a period in all the editions of the Spectator^ I 
have seen, nothing can be plainer than that it ought 
to be pronounced as the first member of the conclud- 
ing series of three compound members. See article^ 
Compound Series. 

Thus, although the whole of life is allowed by every one to be short, the 
several divisions of it appear long and tedious. We are for lengthening our 
span in general) but would fain contract the parts of which it is composed. 
The usurer would be very well satisfied to have all the time annihilated that 
lies between the present moment and next quarter-day. The politician 
would be contented to lose three years in his life, could he place things in 
the posture which he fancies they will stand in after such a revolution of 
time. The minor would be glad to strike out of his existence all the mo- 
ments that are to pass away before he comes of age. Thds as fkst as our 
time rims, we should be v^ glkd, in mOst part of our lives, that it ran much 
f&ster than it d6es. S^eet, JVo. d8. 

Though here are no less than six periods in this 
passage, and every one of them requires the falling 
inflection, yet the voice ought not to fall into a lower 
tone till the last sentence but one, where the words, 
before he comes of age^ must fall gradually to the end* 
But in order to give variety, and form a cadence, the 
last sentence must be pronounced in a different man- 
ner from the rest ; that is, the whole in a lower ton^ 
with the last member falling gradually, and the differ- 
ent slides on the several words, as marked in the ex- 



BHETORICAL GRAIlHAB. 137 

ample. As the last of these sentences which forms 
the cadence does not fall into the came accentual por- 
tions as in the examples^ page 134, 135, the inflec* 
tions are repeated in the same order upon the four 
last as on the four first words, and the last member 
adopts the same order of inflections as in the series. 
See Elements of Elocution^ page x 12* 

On Accented Force. 

By accent is generally and justly understood a 
greater force on one syllable of a word than on anoth- 
er ; but whether this force was pronounced in a high- 
er, or only in a louder tone, was undecided, till, by 
distinguishing the voice into its two inflections, the 
accented syllable was found to be always louder, and 
either higher or lower, than the rest of the syllables, 
according to the inflection with which the accent was 
pronounced.^ The seat of the accent, or that sylla- 
ble in a word which has a right to it, in preference to 
the rest, is decided by custom, and does not form any 
pan of the present inquiry. The question here dis- 
cussed is. What is the nature of that force on a certain 
syllable of a word, which word cannot properly be 
called emphatical ? Thus, in the following sentence, 

Evil commanic&tion corrupts integrity, 

not a single word is emphatical. Every word is pro- 
nounced with an equal degree of force, and every 
word has one accented syllable pronounced evidently 
louder than the rest But in the following sentence, 

Censure is the tax a man pay$ to the public for being eminent; 

— ^in the pronunciation of this sentence, I say, we find 
the words in Italics pronounced with an equal degree 

* See Elements of £locutioii> p. 186. 
18 



138 BUETOUICAL GRAMM AK. 

of force^ but that the others sink into a feebleness^ 
distinguishable by the dullest ear. If we inquire 
what degree of feebleness it is which these words fall 
into^ we shall find it to be exactly that which is giv- 
en to the unaccented %llables of the words censure^ 
publiCy and eminent : so that if we consider the words 
in Roman letters as unaccented syllables of the others^ 
and joined to them as such^ we shall have a precise 
idea of the comparative force of each. Let us^ for 
example, suppose them written in the manner follow- 
ing,— 

censure isthetAx amanp^ys (othepublic forbeing^miDent ; 

and we find we have a precise and definite idea of the 
two forces, and need not recur to the common vague 
direction of ^^ pronouncing some words more forcibly^ 
but not so as to deprive the rest of all force :'' — the 
forres of these two kinds of words are as much settled, 
as the two kinds of force on accented and unaccented 
syllables, and these are sufficiently understood by all 
who have the gift of speech. 

The first obvious distinction, therefore, betweenyjhe 
sounds of words, with respect to force, is into accent- 
ed and unaccented ; and while we know what force 
we ought to give to the unaccented syllables of a word, 
we can be at no loss for the force on unaccented wards; 
and we need but consider these words as the unac- 
cented syllables of the others^ to pronounce them prop- 
erly. 

On Emphatic Force. 

Emphatic force, or that force we give to wordt 
either placed in opposition to other words or suggest- 



aHBTOIlICAL GRAMMAB. 1S9 

ing such an opposition, — this force I say, is not quite 
so definite as the force of accent : very luckily, howev- 
er, the degree of emphatic words is not so essential 
to emphasis, as the degree of accented force is to ac- 
cented words : if we pronounce the smaller and less 
important words of a sentence with the same force we 
do the more significant words, we shall soon find that 
accent is of much more importance to the sense than 
, emphasis. Let us, for example, pronounce every Vord 
in the foregoing sentence (where there is no emphatic 
word) with an equal degree of force, and we shall find 
they wUnt that light and shade, which are necessary 
to form a strong picture of the thought. On the con- 
trary^ let us preserve the proper inflections upon the 
accented syllables of emphatic words, and we shall 
find the scinse fully and clearly brought out, without 
any more force upon these words than is given to the 
other accented words, which are not emphatical. 
Thus^ in the following sentence^ 

The corniption of the best things produces the wont| 

we find the two words best and worst are in opposition 
to each other, and are therefore emphatical ; but in 
order to express this emphasis, we do not find our- 
selves under the least necessity of pronouncing these 
words louder or more forcibly than the words corrujh 
tion and produces. The word things indeed must 
aecessarily be pronounced feeble, like an unaccented 
syllable of the word best ; and it is on this feebleness 
of the word, which belongs to both parts of the empha- 
sis, that the emphatic sense depends much more than 
on the force which is given to the emphatic words 
themselves. Let us try to illustrate.this by examples. 

ProBparity gains friends, and adversi^ tries them. 

In this sentence we find the force of the emphatie 



140 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

words depends entirely on the feebleness with which 
we pronounce the words common to both parts of the 
antithesis : for if, instead of pronouncing the words 
friends and them as unaccented syllables of gaxM and 
trits^ we should give them the same force we do to the 
latter words, the emphasis and meaning of the sen- 
tence would be entirely lost. Let us take another ex- 
ample. 

I do not so much request as demand your attention. 

Here the words ytmr (Mention may be called th€ el- 
liptical words ; for it is by ellipsis only that they are 
omitted after request ; and these words must necessa- 
rily be pronounced like unaccented syllables of the 
word demand^ or the sentence will be deprived of its 
energy. If we pronounce these words feebly, the 
words request and demand may only have common 
accented force, and yet the emphatic sense of the sen- 
tence will be very perceptible ; but if we pronounce 
your attention with as much force as the words request 
and demand^ let us increase the force on these latter 
words as much as we please, we shall find it impossi- 
ble to make the sentence emphatical. 

Thus we see, that pronouncing the elliptical words 
feebly, and as if they were only unaccented syllables 
of those to which they belong, is of much more im- 
portance to the sense of a sentence, than any addition- 
al force on the emphatic word. If it be demanded 
what is the degree of force we must give to emphatic 
words^ when we do bestow this force on them, it may 
be answered, that this will in a great measure depend 
on the degree of passion, with which the words are 
expressed ; but if we have merely an eye to the ex- 
pression of the sense, (for expressing the sense of a pas- 



EHBTORICAIi GB^MMAK* 141 

sage, and expressing the passion of it, are very dif- 
ferent things,) we may make the force of the emphatic 
words exceed that of the accented words, as much as 
the accented force exceeds the unaccented. 

Having thus shown the nature of accent and em- 
phasis, as they are two species of force, and endeav- 
oured to evince the necessity of attending more to the 
inflection of the accent than to any greater degree of 
force upon it ; I shall, in the next place, give a concise 
view of the cause of emphasis, or that particular mean- 
ing in the words which requires a more than common 
force in the pronunciation of them. 

What it is that constitutes Emphasis. 

In every assemblage of objects, some will appear 
more worthy of notice than others. In every assem- 
bJage of ideas, which are pictures of these objects^ 
the same difference will certainly reign among them ; 
and in every assemblage of words, which are pictures 
of these ideas, we shall find some of more importance 
than others. It is the business of a speaker to mark 
this importance, and, consequently, a good speaker 
will make his pronunciation an exact picture of the 
words. The art of speaking then must principally 
consist in arranging each word iuto its proper class of 
importance, and afterwards giving it a suitable pro- 
nunciation. We have seen, in the last article, that 
the prepositions, conjunctions, and smaller words, are 
generally pronounced like unaccented syllables of the 
nouns, verbs, and participles, to which they belongs 
and that these are sometimes pronounced more or less 
forcibly, according to the peculiar meaning annexed 
to them. 



1^ RHBTOBieXL «BAMMAK. 

Nnw what 19 this peeuliar meaning in words which 
fcquires a more than ordinary force in pronouncing 
them, and properly denominates them empbatical? 
This question, however difficult it may appear at first 
sig^t, may he answered in one word, — oppositiatL 
Whenever words are contrasted mtli^ contradistin* 
guished^^t^m, w opposed to, other ^rords, they are al- 
ways emphatical. When both parts of this opposi- 
tion or contrast are expressed, the emphatic words 
become very obvious; as in the following passage 
from Pope : 

Tis hard to say, {f ^ater want of sldll 
Appear in wrUingy or in judging ill : 
But of the two, less dangerous is th' offence 
To lire our paiienee, than mislead our tente ; 
^ Some few in thai, but numhen err in thit; 

Ten eenture wrong, for one who teriiee amiss. 

In this passage, every word in Italics may be said to 
be empbatical ; as every one of these words is oppos- 
ed to some other word, as to its correlative or corres- 
pondent word. In the second line, judging is oppos- 
ed to writing ; in the fourth, mislead is opposed to Are, 
and sense to patience ; in the iBfth, few is opposed to 
numbers^ and this to that ; as in the last one, one is 
opposed to ten, and writes to censure ; wrong and amiss 
being only two words for exactly the same idea, have 
no opposition to each other, and therefore cannot be 
empbatical. 

But when the opposition, in which emphasis con- 
sists, is elliptical ; that is, when but one part of the 
antithesis is expressed, and the other is to be suppli- 
ed by the understanding, and made out by the pro- 
nunciation ; when this is the case, I say, the emphat- 
ic word is not so easily discovered. Here then we 



BHETOmiCAL eEAMM ARt 143 

must have recourse to the general import of the sen- 
tence ; and whatever word we suppose to be emphati- 
cal, must be tried, by pronouncing it more forcibly 
than the rest of the words ; and if this pronunciation 
suggests a phrase^ which, if inserted in the sentence^ 
would explain and illustrate it, we may be sure that 
word is emphatical. Let us try to make this clear by 
examples. 

And if each system in gradation rolli 
Alike essential to tli' amazing wliole ; 
The least coafosion but in oitk, not all 
That system only, but the whole must faU. 

In the third line of this passage, we find an uneommoti 
effort in the author to express ^^ the strong connexionsi 
nice dependencies'^ of one part of the general system 
upon another : and, if we lay a strong emphasis on 
the word one^ we shall find this connexion and depen- 
dency very powerfully enforced; for it will suggest 
this antithesis : ^^ the least confusion, not in several 
or a great many parts of the universe, but even in one, 
would bring confusion on the whole.'' This para- 
phrase we not only find consistent with the sense of 
the poet, but greatly illustrative of it : and hence we 
may determine the word one to be emphatical. 

Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard affords us 
another striking instance of emphasis, where only one 
part of the antithesis is expressed. The writer is 
foretelling what some hoary- headed swain will say of 
him when he lies numbered among the unhonoured 
dead. 

One morn I miss'd him on th' accustom'd hill. 
Along the heath, and near his fav'rlte tree ; 

Another came, nor yet beside the rill, . 
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he. 



144 mnsTORiCAL grammar. 

The next with dirges due, io nd array, 
Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne ; 

Approach, and read (for thou cantt read) the lay, 
Gnv*d on the stone, beneath yon aged thorn. 

Here the words, thou canst are emphatical, as they 
are evidently opposed to / cannot^ which are under- 
stood ; a very beautiful way of hinting the simplicity 
of the swain from his ignorance of the written charac- 
ters of his language. • 

In these instances, the opposition suggested by the 
emphatical word is sufficiently evident ; in other ca- 
ses, perhaps, the antithesis is not quite so obvious ; 
but if an emphasis can be laid on any word, we may 
be assured that word is in antithesis with some mean- 
ing agreeable to the general sense of the passage. 

To illustrate this, let us pronounce a line of Mar- 
cus, in Cato, where, expressing his indignation at the 
behaviour of Caesar, he says, 

I'm tortured even to madness when I think 
Of the proud victor, 

and we shall find the greatest stress fall naturally or 
that word, which seems opposed to some common or 
general meaning ; for the young hero does not ^ay, in 
the common and unemphatic sense of the word ihinkf 
that he is tortured even to madness when he thinks on 
Cesar, but on the strong and emphatic sense of this 
word, which implies not only *^ when I hear or dis- 
course of him, but even when I think of him, Pm 
tortur'd even to madness." 

As the word think therefore rises above the common 
level of signification, it is pronounced above the com- 
mon level of sound ; and as this signification is oppos- 
ed to a signification less forcible, the word may be 
properly said to be emphatical. For we must carefully 



RHETORICAL 0RAlIliAR. 14S 

remember, that emphasis is tluxt stress we lay on wards 
which are in opposition or contradistinction to other 
wordsj expressed or understood* 

For a more exact idea of the nature of emphaais^ 
See Elements of Elocution : Introduction to the The* 
ory of Emphasis, page 188. 

On the different Forces of Emphatic Words. 

It is impossible not to have observed in the last ar- 
ticle, that the emphatic words of the latter kind^ where 
but one part of the antithesis is expressed, are pro- 
nounced much more forcibly than those where both 
parts of the antithesis are laid down, and the opposi- 
tion appears at full length. The reason seems to be 
this: as emphasis always implies opposition, either 
expressed or understood, when this opposition is ex- 
pressed, it is sufficiently obvious, and needs liot a more 
forcible pronunciation than accented words to make it 
perceived ; but when only one emphatic word is ex* 
pressed, and the other understood, it is necessary to 
increase the force upon the word expressed, that what 
is in opposition to it, and is not expressed, may be- 
come more obvious and intelligible. 

If these observations are just, we see an evident 
reason why most of those books which mark the em- 
phatical words in Italics make almost every significant 
word emphatical ; and why this practice is so much 
decried by others, as a useless multiplication of em- 
phasis : — both these parties are in the right. The 
former, perceiving great numbers of words in opposi- 
tion to each other, very properly considered them as 
emphatical ; and perceiving at the same time, that alt 

19 



146 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

most erery substantive^ adjective^ and verb^ had as 
much force in the pronunciation as these emphatical 
words, they knew not how to draw the line between 
them, and so marked them all indiscriminately as em- 
phatical* The latter, finding that very few words 
were pronounced more forcibly than the words we 
have just been describing, concluded that very few words 
were emphatical, because so few were to be pronounc- 
ed more forcibly than the rest. Thas, for want of a 
distinction between the two kinds of emphatic words^ 
neither party seems to have understood where the 
fault lay. 

It must be confessed, however, that the practice of 
marking so many words in Italics, as emphatical^ 
without distinguishing between emphasis expressedf 
and emphasis widerstood ; and without telling us pre- 
cisely the degree of force to be given to the words un- 
marked, was a much greater source of errour, than 
denying emphasis to such words as had no more force 
than common substantives, adjective, and verbs* The 
latter opinion would at least leave the understanding to 
judge for itself, while the former would often mislead 
it Marking every significant word as empbaticid 
tends greatly to give a turgid and bombastic pronun- 
ciation to common words, at the same time that it les- 
sens our attention to such as really deserve extraordi- 
nary force. This cannot be better explained, than by 
quoting a passage from one of the best books of tlus 
kind, and making a few observations on it. The pas- 
sage I intend to consider is the latter part of Pope's 
Prologue to Cato, as I find it in the Art of Speaking, 
page 86. 



RHETOBICAL GRAMMAK. 147 

BrUinUt attend! be worth like this approved. 
And show you have the virtue to be maw'd 
With honest scorn the first fam'd Cato view'd 
^ Rome learning arts from Qreeeey whom she suhdu^i. 

Our scene precariourly subsists too long 
On French translation^ and Italian song. ' 
Dare to have serue yourseltee : assert the Mage ; ' 

Be juAhf %Nirm*d with your own naiive rage. 
Such plays alone should please a British ear, 
As Cato's self had not disdained to hear, ' 

• This passage is in general pretty accurately mark- 
ed : but if we conceive the words in Roman letters to 
have exactly the same force as the unaccented sylla- 
bles of the others^ we shall soon see that many signifi- 
cant words are thrown too much into the shade. I 
know it win be said that these significant words^ 
though they have not the force of the marked words^ 
are still to have a sufficient degree of force to express 
their meaning. But this is the very errour I am com- 
bating : this is the vague^ indefinite rule that echoes 
through all our books of this kind : this is the old 
asylum of ignorance and idleness^ the constant resource 
of those, who, for want of ideas, pay us with words. 
The truth is, we must necessarily give these words 
the same force as the other words, or only the force 
of unaccented syllables; between these two forces 
there is no medium. The line is drawn by nature 
between accent and no accent ; and unless we studi- 
ously strive to do it, we cannot help striking the two 
forces in exact proportion to each other. If we pro- 
nounce the accented syllable stronger, the unaccented 
win be stronger likewise, and inversely. Those, 
therefore, who prof^unce the accented syllable too 
feebly, will be too feeble in those that are unaccented ; 
but we need only make them eofoixe the former, and 
the latter will be infallibly rectified. 



148 RH£TORICAL GRAMMAK. 

An examination of the propriety of marking the worAs 

in the foregoing passage. 

The word thi»^ in the first line, is certainly entitled 
to as much force as worth and approved ; and shoWy 
in the next line, to as much as virtue and moved. 
Honest scorn^ in the third line, is impassioned, and 
will admit of emphasis above the accented words, as 
it may, very agreeably to the sense, be supposed to 
have this antithesis : not merely with didike^ hut with 
scorn. The word firsts in the same line, may be said 
to be emphatical in the same manner, as it points out 
Cato the Censor, in opposition to Cato of Utica, the 
hero of the prologue. In the fifth, the words precarioudy 
subsists must necessarily have more force than so many 
unaccented syllables, and ought therefore to have been 
in Italics, as well as the words too long. The sixth 
line needs no comment ; every significant word is in 
opposition to another word, and is therefore emphatical. 
But in the next line, the word yourselves^ which is op- 
posed to others, not expressed (see pp. 143, 144, 145, 
&c.) and therefore highly emphatical ; this word, 
I say, is not distinguished from the word ser^e, or any 
<ither words that have common force, and is therefore 
confounded with them ; whereas this word ought to 
have as much more force than the accented words, as 
they have more than the unaccented. The next line 
affords us an errour of the same kind : the word na- 
tive is emphatical, as it is opposed to foreign, not ex- 
pressed, and therefore ought to have extraordinary 
force. The word rage^ which is the elliptical word 
(see pp. 144, 145, 146, gcc.) common both to foreign 
and native^ ought no more to have the force of native, 



BHiBTORlCAL GKAMHAR. 149 

than if the antithesis had been expressed at lengthy 
in this manner : ^^ Be justly warmed^ not with foreign 
rage^ but with your own native rage :'' nor can we 
possibly pronounce rage with the same force as native 
without depriving native of its emphasis. Let it not be 
objected that rage is too significant a word to be sunk 
into an unaccented syllable of native ; for if ruxtive be 
pronounced with its proper force, rage, though un- 
accented, will be more forcible than an unaccented 
syllable of a merely accented word. The last line 
affords an opportunity of strengthening the former 
observations, by some which are very similar^ and 
founded on the same reasons* The word self, in thb 
line, is highly emphatical, as such an emphasis sug- 
gests this meaning : ^^ Such plays alone should please 
a British ear, not only as a person of good sense and 
nice morals would approve, but such as even Cato 
himself would approve ;^' for this meaning is not only 
agreeable to the sense of the author, but greatly en- 
forces and illustrates it. 

A new method of marking the different forces of words. 

From the analysis given in the last lesson of a pas- 
sage from Pope, we plainly perceive how delicate a 
thing it is to mark the emphatic words properly, and 
how easily we may be misled by the generality of books 
in use. Advocate, therefore^ as I am for the occasional 
use of marks, I am far from recommending them on 
all occasions. Many things may be useful at certain 
times and on certain occasions, which, if used indis- 
criminately, would be. incommodious and embarrassing. 
Dividing words of diflGicult pronunciation into syllables 



150 RHBTORICAI. QRAlillAm. 

may sametimes be useful^ even to those who read well ; 
hul dtviding every word into syllablfts^ would be ae far 
from assiating such a reader^ that it would be tiie sur- 
est way to embarrass and perplex him. Italics, there* 
fore, may be very usefully employed in printiog to 
mark emphasis, where it is not obvious, or where the 
sense of a passage might be mistaken for want of know- 
ing ife : but where the language is plain, and the meaa- 
iflig obvious, Italics are not only useless, but distressing 
to the reader. From the want of a clear idea of the 
nature of emphasis, land of the difference between ac- 
cented and unaccented force, those who mark books 
for pronunciation think they have never done enough^ 
till they have put every single s^nificant word into 
Italics. For as no distinction of force is settled between 
these words, and as every one is supposed to have a 
certain indefinite degree of force, the writer imagines 
he has done wonders in shewing how much force a few 
words are susceptible of ; and the reader, who is struck 
with the sight of so much force in so small a compas^ 
has not the least doubt of the emphasis of every one 
of these words, if he did but know how to pronounce 
them : thus, by endeavouring to give every word an 
emphatic IS^ree, he deprives those words that are real- 
ly emphatieal of the force which belongs to them, and 
distorts and adulterates the meaning by a quaint and 
unnatural pronunciation* 

But had we once a clear and distinct idea of era- 
phasis, did we consider how few words are so emphat- 
ical as to require a greater force than accented words, 
that every accented word has an equal degree of force, 
and that those that are not accented have exactly the 
force of unaccented syllables ; with these principles 



\ 



ItHBTOltlCAL GRAMMAR. 15t 

in vtewy I say^ we might construct a notatioB^ whkh^ 
it is presumed*, would convey a clearer idea of the sev- 
eral forces of speaking sounds^ than any that has hith- 
erto been hit upon. Let as, for example, take the 
foregoing passage from Pope ; let us consider the )es» 
significant words as unaccented syllables of the othefs^ 
and associate them together accordingly : and let us 
mark those words only, which have emphasis stronger 
than accent, with a different character : 

Britons, attend! be worth likethis approved , 
Andshow youhavetfaevirtue tobemov'd. 
WitUioneat jcom the/rpefam'dCaloview'd 
Rome leamiogarts fromGreece, whomshesubdu'd. 
Ourscene precariously subsists too long 
OnFrench translation andltalian song. 
Dare toharesenseyoane/re*; assert thestag* ; 
Bejustly waitn'd withyonrown no/irsrage. 
Suohplays alone shouldplease aBrt/i<ftear, 
AsCato's ttlf badnot disdained tohear. 

But if writing words in this manner should be found 
troublesome, or appear too much to disguise them, we 
need only put a hyphen between the accented and un- 
accented words, and the same effect will be produced ; 
that is, the whole assemblage will seem but one word ; 
by which means we shall have an exact idea of the rel- 
ative force of each. Thus, the foregoing passage may 
he marked in the manner following : 

Britons, attend ! be-worth like-this approv*d, 
And-show you-have-the-virtue to-be-mov'd. 
With-honest tcom tbe-first-fam'd-Cato-view'd 
Rome leafning-arts frem-Greeee, wbora-she-subduM. 
Oiir-scene precariously subsists too long 
On-Prench translation, and-Italian song, 
Dare to-ha:re-9e&8e-yoor«e/rei; assert the-stage ; 
Be-justly warm*d wHh-your-own TMrftre-rage, 
Such-plays alone sbould-please a-fin'/uA-ear, 
As-Cato^s i9if\»MA'ikoX disdained to-hear. 



152 HUETOIIICAL GRAMMAIU 

Let it not be imagined that this mode of printing; 
is proposed as a model in all cases for teaching to 
read : no ; such unusual combinations might, instead 
of improving some pupils, perplex and retard them ; 
but there are others, to whom this association may 
be highly useful in giving them a clear and distinct 
idea of the three kinds of force, of which all composi- 
tion is susceptible ; and this, it is presumed, is better 
performed by this than by any method hitherto made 
known to us. 

Another method of marking the different forces ofwords^ 

From the method of marking the words we have 
just proposed, it is impossible not to have taken no^ 
tice of a circumstance which arises from it, and which^ 
if properly attended to, will set the utility of this 
method in a still stronger light ; and that is, the clasaifi- 
cation that necessarily follows the uniting of unaccent* 
ed words to tliose that are accented, as if they were 
syllables of them : this classification naturally divides 
a sentence into just so many portions as there are ac- 
cents. Thus, in the sentence before quoted, 

Prosperity | gains friends, | and adversity | tries them, 

there are four portions, and these portions to an ear 
unacquainted with the language would seem to be ex- 
actly so many words. Here then is a new principle 
of dividing sentences independent on the pauses, and 
which cannot fail to convey to us a clear idea of pro* 
nunciation. It has been before observed, that the 
emphasis which requires more force than the accented 
words but seldom occurs, and that when it does occar^ 
the sense of the passage depends much more on the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 153' 

inflection we give to the emphatic word^ than on the 
force we pronounce it with. To these observations it 
may be added^ that, when there is no uncommon em- 
phasis in a sentence, we may often pronounce it with 
more or fewer accents, without materially affecting 
the sense. Thus, in the following sentence. Pitch 
upon that course of life which is the most excellent j and 
custom will make it the most delightful — Spect. No. 
447; the two words, excellent smd delightful^ are con- 
trasted with each other, and therefore may be said to 
be emphatical ; but the emphasis on these words, it is 
evident, requires no more force, than several otiiers in 
the sentence. Now this sentence, without any injury 
to the sense of it, may be pronounced only in four 
portions ; the four words, that^ excellent^ custom^ and 
delightfulj having accented force, and the rest unac- 
cented ; as if written in the following manner : 

Pitch uponth^tcourseoflife | whichisthemost^xcellent, | andcdstom | will 
makeitthemostdelightful. 

Or it may be pronounced in ten portions, with no oth- 
er alteration in the sense than to render it upon the 
whole more sententious and emphatical, thus, 

Pitch I aponth^t | c(SurseJ of life | whichisthemost | Excellent, | andcAs* 
torn I willm^keit | thein6st | delightful \ 

where we see the sole difference between the for- 
mer and latter pronunciation of this passage lies in 
giving accented force to four words in the one, and to 
ten in the other. 

It must not be imagined that these divisions always 
indicate pauses : no ; this distinction into portions is 
the separation of a sentence into its accentual impul- 
ses, and these impulses, though no pause intervenes, are 
as much distinguished by the ear, as the portions sep- 
arated by a pause. Thus the ear perceives as great 

20 



154 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

a difference between the first manner of pronounc- 
ing the words mast, where they sound like unaccent- 
ed syllables of the words excellent and delightful, and 
the last^ where they have an independent accent^ as it 
would do to have a pause inserted or omitted in any 
other part of the sentence. 

This classification of words seems pregnant with 
instruction : by applying it to sentences of difficult 
pronunciation, we give the pupil a distinct idea of 
the different forces of words, and by these means con- 
vey to him that idea of them which we think the best. 
Let us suppose we wanted to instruct a pupil in the 
true emphatic force of a passage in Pope^s Essay on 
Man, where the poet is inquiring after happiness. 

FUnt I of cel^ial | s^ed, | if dn^p'd | bel6w, 
Siy I in what murtal | a6i\ \ tbou d^ign'st | to grOw ? 
Fair 6p'ning | to some c6uil*s propitious shine. 
Or de6p | with diamonds | in the fldming | mine ? 
Twin'd I with the wreaths | Pam&sstan laurels yield, 

Or r6ap'd | in iron | h&rvests | of the fidld ? 

Fix'd to q6 spot | is hkppiness | sinc^re^ 
Tis n6where to be found, | or Everywhere. 

If we wished to explain our sense of the manner in 
which this passage ought to be read, could we possi- 
bly take a better method than this of dividing it into 
such portions as are each of them pronounced like 
single words ? In this mode of marking the lines^ 
each word has its degree of force settled by the easi- 
est method in the world, that of accented or unaccent- 
ed syllables ; and if to these accents are added the 
slide or inflection, with which every accent is neces- 
sarily pronounced, we have a notation of speaking 
sounds that gives us as infallibly the leading notes of 
speech, as the notes of music convey to us the tune of a 
song ; the graces and beauties of singing and speaking 



RHETOEICAL ORAMMAR. 155 

must be conveyed by the iivtng voice to the ear^ but this 
does not preclude in eitherthe utility of marks to the eye. 
But though I would by no means recommend this 
association of words as a common lesson for' youth, I 
am well persuaded that, on some occasions, it may be 
very useful to explain the pronunciation of some diffi- 
cult passages by it A youth will have a much clear- 
er idea of the force he is to give to the subordinate 
words of a sentence, by considering them as syllables 
of the other words, than by any other explanation we 
can make use of; and in order to impress this idea, 
it may not be improper to write or mark phrases, with 
the words thus associated. 

Utility of understanding the different Slides^ and differ- 

ent Forces of Words* 

In the same manner I would recommend the use of 
accents, to mark the different slides of the voice. 
Where the language is smooth, and the meaning clear^ 
any kind of marks would do more hurt than good ; but 
where the language is uncouth, and the meaning ob- 
scure, nothing can be more certain than the usefulness 
of some marks to direct the voice in the pronunciation. 
Let us illustrate this by some passages from Dr. Young. 
Speaking of the folly of those who delay an amend- 
ment of their lives, he says, 

How excellent that life they ne*er will lead ! 
Time lodg'd in their own hands is folly's vales ; 
That lodg'd in flite's, to wisdom they consign : 
The things they can't but purpose they postpone. 

This passage will lose much of its clearness, and all 
its beauty, if the word fate% in the third line, is not 
pronounced with the falling inflection : this inflection 



156 HHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

will Strongly mark the folly of consigning to wisdom, 
or using wisely, what is not in their own hands, but 
in the hands of fate. 

The two following lines in this passage afford an- 
other opportunity of showing how important to the 
sense is a particular inflection on a particular word. 

TTis not in felly not to scom a fool ; 
And scarce in human wisdom to do more. 

If we do not give fpUy the emphasis with the falling 
inflection, the thought will be scarcely intelligible. 
The same may be observed of the word themselves in 
the second line of the following passage : 

All men think all men mortal bat themselves ; 
Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate 
Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread. 

The following passage will afford an instance of the 
necessity of adopting the other inflection on a partic- 
ular word, in order to elucidate and fix the meaning. 
The poet, speaking of the original grandeur of the 
passions, says. 

What though our passions are run mad, and stoop 
With low terrestiial appetite, to graze 
On trash, on toys, dethron'd from hi:xh desire ; 
Yet still through their disfi:race, no fe6ble ray 
Of greatness shines, and tells us whence they fell. 

If we do not give the word feeble the emphasis with 
the rising inflection we shall be led to suppose that 
not even a feeble ray of ! greatness shines: a sense 
directly contrary to the scope of the author. 

Milton, who, from his fondness for the ancients, fre- 
quently departs widely from the idiom of his own 
language, affords us frequent instances of the necessi- 
ty of attending nicely to the inflection of voice with 
which we read, in order to preserve his meaning. 



EHET0R1CAL GRAMMAR* 157 

Thosy where he is describing the fallen ungels as sen- 
sible of the misery of their state, while they are gath- 
ering round their leader, be says, 

Nor did they ii6t perceive the evil pli^t 

In which they were, or the fierce pains n6i feel. 

The words not in this passage must necessarily have 
the emphasis with the rising inflection, as this specific 
emphasis is the only way of rendering the sense of the 
passage intelligible. 

As a further proof of the necessity of distinguish- 
ing emphasis into two kinds, and of having a distinct 
and different mark for each, we need only attend to 
the pronunciation of the following passage from the 
same author, where he describes Satan's surprise at 
the sight and approach of the figure of death. 

Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 
The monster moving, onward came as fast 
With horrid strides ; Hell trembled as he strode. 
Th' undaunted fiend what this might be admir'd ; 
Admk'd, not f^ar'd : God, and his Son except^ 
Created thing nought valu'd he nor shunn'd ; 
And, with disdainful look, thus first began. 

Par. LoM. b. ii. v. «74L 

There are few readers, who, in pronouncing this 
passage, would not give admir^dy in the fifth line, the 
rising slide, sjkA feared the falling; but nothing can be 
more evident than that this does not bring out the 
sense of the passage with half the force of a contrary 
position of the slides. The falling slide on admir^d^ 
and the rising on fear^d^ is agreeable to the general 
rule the ear always follows, in pronouncing positive 
and negative members, when it is unembarrassed by 
the intricacies of poetic language. Thus we see it is of 
little consequence to tell us a word is emphatical, 
unless the kind of emphasis is specified, and when 



158 RHETORICAL GRAlfMAft. 

this is done we find the sense of a passage is deter- 
mined. 

I shall conclude these observations, on the utility of 
marks^ by showing the very different sense of a sen* 
tence according to the different force and inflection 
which is ^ven to its several parts. When we take 
our leave of a person^ we sometimes make use of the 
following sentence : 

I wish you aU the happinen ihU world can afford. 

If we lay an equal stress upon the words wishj aU, 
happiness^ this, world, and afford, and pronounce the 
rest like unaccented syllables of these, we shall find 
a sense implying that this world can, afford great hap- 
piness ; but if we lay an emphasis with the falling in- 
flection on all, and one with the rising on this, and 
pronounce the rest of the words like unaccented sylla- 
bles of these^ as if they were written in the following 
manner : 

Iwishyou^^thehappiness | <Jiuworldcanaffbrd : 

Or thus, 

I>wish-you-d//-the-happine8s | //lif-world-can-afford.* 

In this case, I say, we shall find a very different sense 
produced ; for it will strongly intimate that this world 
has very little happiness to afford. 

If these observations are just, we may perceive 
what great advantages we might reasonably expect 
from such a knowledge of the voice as would enable 
us to comprehend and practise the distinction of force, 
and the two-fold distinction of inflections here laid 
down. We should then have a language in which we 
might converse intelligibly on different modes of pro- 

* Uv the first method of pronoancing this sentence, it seems to the ear to 
contain as many words as there are accents ) viz. six. In the last, the sen- 
fence seems to consist only of two very long words, because there are in re- 
ality no more than two accents in it. 



I 



BHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 159 

fiunciation : we could tell the reader plainly and sim- 
ply, that such words require one species of force and 
inflection, and such words another, without having re- 
course to such vague and indeterminate directions as 
saying, that ^^ he must pronounce some words with 
emphasis, but not so as to deprive others of a certain 
degree of it.'^ Whoever is curious to see the obscu- 
. rity which a want of these distinctions occasions, may 
consult some of our best writers on this subject, where 
they dispute with each other about the pronunciation 
of certain passages. Here he may see how men may 
wrangle without end, and each seem to have the vic- 
tory, when they neither understand each other, nor 
even themselves, for want of precise and definite terms. 

* 

RULES FOR READING VERSE. 

On the Slides or Inflections of Verse. 

The first general rule for reading verse is, that we 
ought to give it that measured harmonious flow of 
sound which distinguishes it from prose, without fal- 
ling into a bombastic, chanting pronunciation, which 
makes it ridiculous. This medium, like all others 
where excellence resides, is not very easy to hit ; and 
here, as in similar cases, the worst extreme must be 
avoided. For this purpose, it will not be improper, 
before we read verse with its poetical graces, to pro- 
nounce it exactly as if it were prose : this will be de- 
priving verse of its beauty, but will tend to preserve 
it from deformity : the tones of voice will be frequent- 
ly diflerent, but the inflections will be nearly the same. 

But though an elegant and harmonious pronuncia- 
tion of verse will sometimes oblige us to adopt differ- 



160 RHETORICAL GRAMVAR. 

ent inflections from those we use in prose, it may still 
be laid down as a good general rule, that verse re- 
quires the same inflections as prose, though less strong- 
ly marked, and more approaching to monotones. If^ 
therefore, we are at* a loss for the true inflection of 
voice on any word in poetry, let us reduce it to ear- 
nest conversation, and pronounce it in the most famil- 
iar and prosaic manner, and we shall, for the most 
part, fall into those very inflections we ought to adopt 
in repeating verse. 

This observation naturally leads us to a rule, which 
may be justly looked upon as the fundamental princi- 
ple of all poetic pronunciation ; which is, that wherev- 
er a sentence, or member of a sentence, would neces- 
sarily require the falling inflection in prose, it ought 
always to have the same inflection in poetry ; for 
though, if we were to read verse prosaically, we should 
often place the falling inflection where the style of 
verse would require the rising, yet in those parts 
where a portion of perfect sense, or the conclusion of 
a sentence, necessarily requires the falling inflection^ 
the same inflection must be adopted both in verse and 
prose. Thus in Milton's description of the deluge^ 
in Paradise Lost : 

Meanwhile the south-wind rose, and, with blacic wings 

Wide hov'ringy all the clouds together drove 

From under heaven : the hills, to their supply, 

Vapour and exhalation dusk and moist 

Sent up amain : and now the thickened sky 

Like a dark ceiling stood ; down rushed the rain 

Impetuous, and continued till the earth 

19 o more was seen ; the floating vessel swam 

Upliftedi and secure with beaked prow 

Rode tilting o'er the waves. Paradise Loit, b. li. v. 738. 

In this passage^ every member forming perfect 



UMBTORICAL <QIUMMAE. 1€1 

sense^ if read as &# mmj lines of pro«e^ would eni 
with the faUing oUdc^ and this is the slid« they ouglit 
to end with io ?^*se. The oieiiiber^ indeed^ whidi 
esda with impetuous^ ought to have the rising slide $ 
because^ tboiigh it forms perfect sease^ it is followed 
hy a membw which does uot form sense by itself^ and 
for this reason would necessarily adopt the rising 
slide, if it were prose* 

In the same raantter^ though we frequently suspend 
the voice by the rising inflection in verse, where^ if 
the compo^tion were prose^ we should adopt the fal- 
ling, jttf wherever in prose the member or sentenoe 
would necessarUy require the rising inflection^ this 
inflection mast necessarily be adopted in verse. An 
instanee of all these cases may be found in the follow- 
ing example from Pope : 

He, ^o through Fiwt immensity can pteroe,. 
See woridB on worids compose one uniTene ; 
Observe how system into system runs, 
What other planets circle other suns ; * 

What varied being peoples ev'ry star ; 
May tell why heaven has made us as we are. 
But of this frame, the bearings, and the ties, 
The strong eonaeuons, nice dependencies, 
Gradations just, has thy pervading sool 
Look'd through ? or can a part contain the whole ^ 

Is tiie great chain, that draws all to agree. 
And drawn wpportfl^ opheld by God, or thee ? 

Popt'i Etaojf on Man. 

If this passage were prose^ every line but the fifiJi 
might end with the falling inflection; but the fifth 
being that where the two principal constructive parts 
vMtjtf and the sensjB begins to fbrm^ here^ both in 
prose and verse^ must be the principal pause^ and the ' 
rising inflection. The two questions with which the 
ninth and tenth lines end ought to have the rising in- 

51 



i6l3 rAET ORICALr (GRAMMAR^ 

iedtion RhOf as this is the inflection they would ne** 
dessarily have in prose $ though from injudiciously 
jvrintitig the last couplet^ so as to form a fresh para- 
^ph, the word iohole -is generally pronounced with 
tfhe falling inflection, in order to avoid the bad effeet 
^f a question with the rising inflection at the end of a 
paragraph ; which would be etfectually prevetiited by- 
uniting the last couplet to the rest^ so as to form one 
^hole portion, and which was undoubtedly the inten- 
tion of the poet. 

' Having premised these observations, I shall endeav* 
but to th^ow together a few rules for the i*eading of 
verse, which, by descending to particulars, it is hop- 
^d will be more useful than those very general ones^ 
which are commonly to be met with on this subject^ 
and which, though very ingenious, seem calculated 
rather for the making of verses^ than the reading of 
them. 

Of the accent and empliasis of verse. 

Rule L In verse, every syllable must have the 
same accent, and every word the same emphasis, as 
in prose ; for though the rhythmical arrangement of 
the accent and emphasis is the very definition of poe- 
try, yet, if this arrangement tends to give an empha- 
sis to words which would have none in prose, or an 
accent to such syllables as have properly no accent^ 
the rhythmus, or music of the verse, must be entirely 
neglected. Thus the article the ought never to have 
a stress, though placed in that part of the verse where 
the ear expects an accent. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR^ ^^ 

KXAMPLE. 

Of all the caoees which conspire to blind 

Man's erring judgment, and misgaide the mind, 

What the weak head with strongest bias rales, 

Is pride, the never failing vice of fools. Pope. 

An injudicious reader of verse would be very apt to 
lay a stress upon the article the in the third line^ but 
a good reader would neglect the stress on this^ and 
transfer it to the words what and weak. Thus alsp^ 
in the following example^ no stress must be laid ojk 
thj& word of, because we should not give it any. in 
prosaic pronunciation. 

Ask of thy mother earth why oaks are made 

Taller and stronger than the weeds they shade. Pope. 

For the same reason the word as^ either in the first 
or second line of the following couplet^ ought to have 
no stress. 

Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, 

And catch the manners living as they rise. Pope. 

The last syllable of the word excellent^ in the follow- 
ing couplet^ being the place of the stress, is very apt 
to draw the reader to a wrong pronunciation of the 
word, in compliance with the rhythmus of the verse. 

Their praise is still, the style is excellent : 

The sense they humbly take upon content. Ptye. 

Bat a stress upon the last syllable of this word must 
be avoided, as the most childish and ridiculous pro- 
nunciation in the world. The same may be observed 
of the word ehqttence and the particle the in th^ fol- 
lowing couplet : * 

False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, 

Its gandy cok>ur» spreads on ev'17 place. Pope, 

If in complianee with the rhythmqs, or tune of the 
verse, we lay a stress on the last syllable of ehquencp^ 
and on the particle the in the first of these verses^ to 



164 RHETOEICAJL OIUMMAIU 

a good judge of reading scarcely any thing can be 
conceived more disgusting* 

When the poeticai accent is ta he preserved j and when 

noU 

Rule IL One of the most puzzling varieties in 
reading verse is that which is occasioned by the po- 
et's facing a word in such a part of the line as is 
quite inconsistent with the metre of the verse. It ia 
one of the most general rules in reading, that every 
word is to have the same accent in verse that it has 
in prose. This rule, however, admits of some few ex- 
ceptions. Many of our good poets have sometimes 
placed words so unfavourably for pronunciation in the 
common way, that the ear would be less disgusted 
with an alteration of the common accent for the sake 
of harmony, than with a preservation of this accent 
with harshness and discord ; for, in some cases^ by 
preserving the common accent, we not only reduce 
the lines to prose, but to very harsh and disagreeable 
prose. Thus we cannot hesitate a moment at placing 
the accent on the first syllable of expert in the follow- 
ing tine of Pope, though contrary to its prosaic pro- 
nunciation : 

Then fell Seamandrhis, expert in tiie diace. 

But it will be demanded, is the ear the only role when 
we «are to pronounce one way and when another ? 
It may be answered ; this is the best rule for those 
who have good ears ; but like most of the rules given 
on this subject, it amounts to no rule at all. To olTer 
something like a rule therefore, where there is none, 
will not be unacceptable to those at least who have 
not ears suflkiently delicate to direct themselves, and 



]»BTOaiGAl« QRAMMAR. 165 

these who have will not be displeased to find a rea- 
son given for such a choice of accent as they approve. 

And firsts let us try the different effects which these 
disjointed and inharmoniously accented words have on 
the ear^ (for unquestionably they are not all equally 
disagreeable^) and that perhaps may lead us to some- 
thing like a rule for directing us when we are to com- 
ply with the poetical accent^ and when not. 

In the first place^ let us bring together words of 
two syllables, with the accent on the firsts which the 
poet has transferred to the last. 



Wbo now frtiiii^, and in Ui' exeeas of joy— P. L. L 12S. 

In their tr^pU degrees, reg;ion9 to whieh— ' Ifnd. xl 140. 

Which of lu who beholds the bright narfdee Rid, ▼!. 479. 

Of thrones and mif^hty seraphim prottrdU, Ibid, 841. 

Male he created thee ; bat thy eorudrt^ — Airf. vii. 62^. 

Ko^to incur ; but soon his clear oip^ef. Ibid, 886. 

Beyond all past example and /Wiire. IMrf. 840. 

To do aught good nevH- will be oar task. ikid. i. 169. 

Moori by his side wvUr the lee, while night— Rnd. 207. 

Abject and lost lay these covering the flood. Ibid, 813. 

Gods, yet confess*d l&Ur than heav*n and earth. Ibid. 509. 

These other two equdWd with me in Cate* Ibid. iii. 88. 

And flowers aloft akading the fount of lifs. Ibid. 867. 

Second to thee qjfdr^d himself to die. Ibid. 409. 

Which twted, works knowUdge of good and evU. Ibid. vii. 648. 

To whom, with healing words, Mdm replied. Ibid. ix. 290. 

Grateful to heav*n ; ovdr his head behold. Ibid. 894. 

Preserving the poetical accent on many of these words 
would be merely turning them into ridicule^ and there- 
fore^ every reader who has the least delicacy of feel- 
ing will certainly preserve the common accent of these 
words on the first syllable^ and let the metre of the 
line shift for itself. 

In the next place^ let us adduce such words of two 
syllables as have a contrary transposition of accent^ 



l66 RtlETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

that is^ such as have the common accent on the last 
^yllable^ which the poet removes to the first 

Next Chemos, th' dbseene dread of Moab's sods. P. L. i. 123. 

And sat as princes, whom the wkprtme king. Ibid. 785. 

Encamp their legions, or with 6bacwrt wing. Ihid. ii. 132. 

Oar supreme foe in time maj mach relent. Ibid. 210. 

Ofmdnkind in one root, and earth with hell. Ibid. i. 313. 

In ednjaud march, forlom, th' adventurous bands. Ibid. 615. 

Forth rush the UvaiU and the ponent winds. Ibid, x. 704. 

In placing the accent on the first syllable instead of 
the second on these words, as the poet has done, we 
find no such harshness to the ear as in the former ei^- 
amples^ and I think we may therefore conclude that 
something like a rule is discovered respecting words 
of two syllables. 

The management of the misaccented words of three 
syllables is not perhaps so easy. After trying, every 
possible way to reconcile the accent and the metre^ I 
have not been able to conceive a better method than 
that of compromising the demands of each. Perhaps 
the least offensive method to the ear of preserving 
the accent^ and not entirely violating the quantity^ 
would be to place an accent on the syllable immedi- 
ately preceding that on which the poet has misplaced 
it, without dropping that which is so misplaced ; by 
this means the word will be heard with the true ac- 
cent, which will in some measure abate the impropri- 
ety of the false one : and thus, by the succession of 
two accents, we shall only seem to be enforcing the 
sense, while we are really hiding the fault of the meas- 
ure. Thus the word blasphemous may be accented 
both on the first and second syllable : 



O nrgumeDt ftZdipft^mow, false, and proud ! F. L, v, 909. - 

Refrain 'd his tongue UdtphkmmiM; but anon — IbU. vi. 860. 

Here the ear feels no great impropriety, especially as 

this word is still accented by many speakers (though 
of the lower order) on the second syllable. But the 
words odorous^ infinite^ and voluble^, accented by Mil- 
ton on the second syllable, must be nicely managed in 
order to prevent a cacophony* 

Spirits od4JT€fU9 breathes ; flow'rs, and their fruit—- 

P. L. V. 483. 

Hoarse murmur echo'd to lus words applause, 

Through the infimte host. Ibid. 874. 

^Whether the prime orb| 

Incredible how swift, had thither roU*d 

Diurnal ; or this less voluble earth. 

By shorter flights to th' east, had left him there. IhU. 

The same rule seems to hold good where the poet 
has placed the accent on the first and last syllable of 
a word which ought to have it on the middle syllable. 



-and as is due 



With glory alirilnUed to the high 

Creator? P. L. viii. 12. 

Only to shine, yet scarce to eoniribuU 

Each orb a glimpse of light Ibid. 156. 

Shoots tmiiibU virtue, e'en to the deep. Ibid. iii. 5S6. 

If any thing can render the pronunciation of this ve* 
ry unpoetic line tolerable, it must be placing the ac- 
cent an the first and third syllable of invisible. 

After all the attention that can possibly be paid to 
many of these rugged lines, rugged they will still remain ; 
and when the reader has done his best to make them 
as smooth as possible, the author is justly chargeable 
with the want of poetic harmony. Dr. Watts, who 
to learning and judgment united a poetical ear, di- 
rects us, in his rules for reading verse^^ so to favour 



168 RHBTOUGAL QRAMM AH* 

the rhyme as to pronounce the word Ubertjfy eitkw as 
Ubertee or liberties just as it rhymes with the end of 
the former line^ Thus^ 

^ Were I ha^ enee from boadege/ree, 
I'd never sell my liberty, 

^^ Here,^^ he says, ^^ I mast pronounce die word tih* 
erlyy as if it were written with a double ee, Ubertee^ ta 
rhyme with the word free* Bat if the verse ran tfaus^ 

** My soul ascends above the dbyt 
And trimnphs in her liberiy. 

The word Uberty must be sounded as ending in i^ 
that sky may have a juster rhyme to it/' But as 
this compliance with the rhyme is now justly exploded, 
such verses as these ought never to appear in any 
modern poetry. The ear of a foreigner (which^ as 
Mr. Addison observes, is perhaps the best judge in 
this case) is shocked beyond measure at such verses ; 
and natives only bear them because they are accus* 
tomed to them. How strangely do two lines that 
rhyme appear in blank verse where we do not ex* 
pect them ? and can such lines as have no agreement 
in sounds appear less strange when a rhyme is ex- 
pected ? Certainty not. But as judicious readers of 
the present day would rather the verse should appear 
strange by not rhyming^ than strange by altering the 
accent or sound of a word^ so^ in a choice of evils, the 
less seems to be that of preserving as much as possi- 
ble the proper accent in blank verse, and making the 
poet answerable for the rest : but^ as we have observ- 
ed above, if there are cases in which the poet may be 
favoured without departing too widely from general 
usage, it is incumbent on the reader to pronounce his 
author to the best advantage, not only by heightening 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 169 

his beautieS; but^ as much as possible^ by hiding his 
faults. 

I am indebted to the Rev. Mr. Robertson^ in his ele- 
gant Essay on the Nature of English Verse^ for many 
of the examples I have made use of, as well as for 
many judicious observations on them ; and have much 
to regret, that a gentleman of his real learning and 
good taste did not carry his observations farther. 

Rule III. How the wwek e and o are to be pronounc- 
ed j when apostrophised. 

The vowel e^ which, in poetry, is so often cut off by 
an apostrophe in the word the^ and in unaccented 
sy Ilables before r, as dang^rous^ generous, &c. ought 
always to be preserved in pronunciation, because the 
syllable it forms is so short as to admit of being sound- 
ed with the succeeding syllable, so as not to increase 
the number of syllables to the ear, or at all to hurt 
the melody. 

Tis hard to say, if greater want of skiU 

Appear in writing, or in judging ill : 

But of the two, less dang'rous is th* offence 

To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. Foj^. 

Him the Almighty Power 

Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, 
' With hideous rain and combustion down 

To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 
In adamantine chains and penal fire, 
Who durst defy th* Omnipotent to arms. MtUofu 

In these examples, we see the particle the may 
either form a distinct syllable or not. In the third 
line from Pope^ the first the forms a distinct syllable, 
but the second is sunk into the succeeding noun. The 
same may be observed of this particle in the passages 
from Milton. The same observations in every res- 

2£ 



170 ft&JBTORICAL. GIUIIMAB* 

pect, hold good in the pronunciation of the preposi* 
tion tOf which ought always to be sounded long^ like 
the adjective twOf however it may be printed^ wheth- 
er as we see it in Pope's Essay on Man^ 

Say what the use were finer optics given, 

T' inspect a mite, not comprehend tiie heaven : 

Or in Milton^ either abbreviated as in 



•durst oppose 



A third part of the gods in synod met 

Their deities t' assert : who, while they feel 

Vigour divine within them, can allow 

Omnipotence to none. Par. Luif b. vi. v. 166. 

Or at lengthy as in the following passage^ 

Tet still they knew, and ought to have still remembered 
The high injnnetion not to taste that finiit 
Whoever tempte d 

Having premised these observations on words^ we 
shall next proceed to sentences ; as words arranged 
into sentences may be properly called the subject 
matter of the art of reading* 

Of the pause or aesura of verse. 

Rule IV. Almost every verse admits of a pause 
in or near the middle of the line^ which is called the 
ciBsura ; this must be carefully observed in reading 
verse^ or much of the distinctness^ and almost all the 
harmony; will be lost. 

XXAMPLB. 

Nature to all things flx'd the limits fit. 

And wisely curb'd proud man's pretending wit: 

As on the land while here the ocean gains, 

In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains ; 

Thus in the soul, while memory prevails, 

The solid pow'r of understanding faib ; 

Where beams of warm imagination play. 

The memory's soft figures melt away. Popf. 



BHETO^ieAL GRAiniAR. 171 

These lines have seldom any points inserted in the 
middle^ even by the most scrupulous punctuists ; and 
yet nothing can be more palpable to the ear^ than that 
a pause in* the first at tilings ^ in the second at curbed j 
in the third at kmdj in the fourth at parts^ in the fifth 
at sauly is absolutely necessary to the harmony of those 
lines : and that the sixth, by admitting no p^use but 
at understandings and the seventh, none but at imag- 
inatianj border very nearly upon prose. The reason 
why these lines will not admit of a pause any where 
but at these wprds will be evident to those who have 
perused the former part of this work on the division 
of a sentence ; and if the reader would see one of the 
most curious pieces of analysis on this subject in any 
language, let him peruse the chapter on versification, 
in Lord Karnes's Elements of Criticism ; where he 
will see the subject of pausing, as it relates to verse, 
discussed in the deepest, dearest, and most satisfacto- 
ry manner. It will be only necessary to observe in 
this place, that though the most harmonious place 
for the capital pause is after the fourth syllable, it 
may, for the sake of expressing the sense strongly and 
suitably, and even sometimes for the sake of variety, be 
placed at several other intervals. 

EXAMPLES. 

Tb bard to say— if greater want of skill. 

So when an angel— by divine command, 
With rising tempests— 4hi^e« a guilty laad. 

Then from his closing eyes—thy form shall part. 
And the last pang— ehall tear thee from his heart. 

Ins^nr'd repals'd battalions — ^to engage, 

And tanght the doabtfnl battle— where to rage. 

Ksow then thyself— presume not God to scan; 
The proper study of mankind— is man. 



173 RHETORICAL GB^AMIIAR*. 

Of the cadence of verse. 

Rule V. In order to form a cadence in a period in 
rhyming verse^ we must adopt the falling inflectios 
with considerable force in the caesura of the last line 
but one. 

XXAMPLS/ 

One science only wlU one genins fit| 

So vast is art, so narrow human wit ; 

Not only bounded to peculiar arts. 

But oft in those oonfin'd to single parts; 

Like kings, we losie the conquests gain'd before 

By vain ambition, still to make them mofe ', 

Each might hfai several pKhince-weH command 

Would all but stoop to what they understand. Papt^ 

In repeating these lines, we shall find it necesary t0 
form Uie cadence, by giving the falling inflection with 
a little more force than common to the word province. 
The same may be observed of the word prospect ii 
the last line of the following passage : 

So pleas'd at first the tow'iing Alps we try, 
Mount o*er the vales, and seem to tread the sky ; 
Th' eternal snows appear already past, 
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last : 
But those attain'd, we tremble to survey 
The growing labours of the lengthened way ; 
Th* incroasing prospect — tires our wandering eyes, 
Hills peep o*er hillS| and Alps on Alps arise. 

How to pronounce a simile in poetry. 

Rule VI. A simile in poetry ought always to be 
read in a lower tone of voice than that part of the 
passage which precedes it. 

ZXAMPLB. 

'TwfluB then great Marlborough's mighty soul was prov'tf, 
That in the shock of charging hosts unmov'd> 
Amidst confusion, honor, and despair. 



mHKTOBICAL GIUMMAR. 173 

fixuaiii'd all the dreadful scenes of war ; 
In peaceful thought the field of death survey'd, 
To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid ; 
Inspired repulsed battalions to engage, 
And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. 
So when an angel, by divine command, 
' With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, 

(Such as of late o*er pale Britannia past) 
Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; 
And pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, 
Rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm. MUtotL 

This rule is one of the greatest embellishments of po- 
etic pronunciation, and is to be observed no less in 
blank verse than in rhyme. Milton's beautiful descrip- 
tion of the sports of the fallen angels affords us a 
good opportunity of exemplifying it. 

Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 

With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 

As when, to warn proud cities, war appears ' < t 

Wag*d in the troubled sky, and armies rush 

To battle in the clouds, before each van 

Prick forth the afiiy knigths, and coach thear speaEs, 

Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 

From either end of heav*n the welkin bums. 

Others with vast Typhoean rage more fell 

Rend up both rocks and hilb, and ride the air 

In whiriwind : Hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 

As when Alcides, from (Echalia crown 'd 

With conquests, felt th' envenom'd robe ; and tore. 

Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines. 

And Lichas from the top of (Eta threw 

Into th* Euboic sea. Par. Lott. b. ii. 631. 

In reading this passage^ the voice must drop into a 
monotone at the conunencement of each simile : as it 
proceeds^ the voice gradually slides out of the mono- 
tone^ to avoid too great a sameness ; but the monotone 
itself^ being so essentially different from the preceding 
style of pronunciation; becomes one of the greatest 
sources of variety. 



.• 



174 BHSTOmiCAL GBAMXAS* 

Rule VII. Where there is no pause in the sense at 
the end of a verse^ the last word must have exactly 
the same inflection it would have in prose. Of that 
visionary pause at the end of every line in verse^ cal- 
led by some writers the pause of suspension^ see a full 
confutation in Elements of Elocution^ p. 277* 

Over their heads a crystal firmameot, 

Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 

Amber, and ooloors of the flow'ry arch. JlSUon. 

In this example the word pure must have the falling 
inflection^ whether we make any pause at it or not^ as 
this is the inflection the word would have if the sen- 
tence were pronounced prosaically. For the same 
reason the words retired and toent^ in the following 
example^ must be pronounced with the rising inflec- 
tion. 

At his eommattd th* nprooted hHIs retired 

Each to his place ; they heard his voice, and went 

Obsequious ; Heav'n lus wonted face renew'd, 

And with fresh flow'rets hills and valleys smird. MUton. 

Rule VIII. Sublime^ grand^ and magnificent de- 
scription in poetry requires a lower tone of voice^ 
and a sameness nearly approaching to a monotone. 

This rule will surprise many, who have always 
been taught to look upon a monotone^ or sameness of 
voice, as a deformity in reading. A deformity it cer- 
tainly is, when it arises either from a want of power 
to alter the voice, or a want of judgment to introduce 
it properly ; but I presume it may be with confidence 
affirmed, that when it is introduced with propriety, 
it is one of the greatest embellishments of poetic pro- 
nunciation. 



■HBTOEICAL G1U»CA1I. 175 

XXAXPLI. 

Aad if Much system in gradatio& roll, 

Alike egaential to th' mnering whole. 

The least coofcuion but in one, not all 

That system only, but the whole must fall. 

Let earth unbalance from her orbit fly. 

Planets and suns run lawless thropi^h the sky ; 

Let ruling angek from their spheres be hnrl'di 

Being on being wrecked, and world on world, 

Heay'n's whole foundations to their centre nod. 

And Nature tremble to the throne of God : 

All this dread order break ! — for whom ? for thee ? 

Vile worm !•— oh madness ! pride ! impiety ! Pop^, 

The series of grand images which commences at the 
fifth line fills the mind with surprise approaching to 
astonishment. As this passion has a tendency to fix 
the body^ and deprire it of motion^ so it is best ex* 
pressed in speaking by a deep and almost uniform 
tone of voice : the tone indee4 may have a small slide 
upwards at dcff^ werldj and God, but the words ^^ 
hwrPd^ and nodf, require exactly the same monotonous 
sounds with which the rest of the line must be pro* 
nounced. 

What has been just observed in the last lesson 
leads us to another rule in reading verse^ which^ 
though subject to exceptions^ is suffici^tly general 
to be of considerable use. 

Rule IX. When the first line of a couplet does 
not form perfect sense, it is necessary to suspend the 
▼oice at the end of the line with the rising slide. 

Far as creation's ample range extends, 

The scale of seninal, mental powers ascends. 

Mark how it moants to man's imperial rdce, 

From tiie green myriads in the peopled grass. Pope. 

^is rule holds good even where the first line forms 



176 BHETOKICAX. CEAm^iLB. 

perfect sense by itself, and is fbllowed by another 
forming perfect sense likewise, provided the first Bne 
does not end with an emphatic word which requires 
the falling slide. 

EXAlf?LK. 

Self-love, the spring of motion, acts the s6ttl ; 

Reason's comparing balance roles the whole. 

All Nature is but art unknown to thfee, 

All chance, direction which thou canst not see : 

All discord, harmony not underst6od, 

All partial evil, universal good : 

And spite of pride, in erring reason*s spite, 

One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right. . Pdpe. 

In all these couplets, except the last, die first line 
forms perfect sense by itself, but the variety and bar- 
mony of the verse require they should be all equally 
read witb the rising slide on the last word. But if 
the first Kne ends with yi emphatical word, requiring 
the falling slide, this slide must be given to it, but in 
a higher tone of voice than the same slide in the last 
line of the coujdet 

filAMPLX. 

Vice is a monster of so frightful mein, 
As to be hated needs but to be seen ; 
Tet seen too oft, familiar with her face^ 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 
But where th* extreme of vice was ne'er agreed ; 
Ask Where's the north, at York 'tis on the Tweed : 
No creature owns it in the first degree, 
But thinks his neighbour further gone than he. 
E'en those "who dwell beneath its very Eone» 
Or never feel the rage, or never own : 
What happier natives shrink at with affright 
The hard inhabitant contends is right. Pope. 

In the first line of the last couplet but one, the word 
zone is emphatical, and requires the falling slide; 
but this slide must not be in so low a tone as it la in 
Che last word of the next line. 






BHBT<MII€AI«. OmMMMAM. 177 

But whoi the first line of a couplet does not form 
senae^ and tke second line^ either from its not forming 
aenae^ or from its being a question, requires the ria*^ 
ing slide ; in this case, the first line must end with 
such a pause as the sense requires^ but without any 
alteration in the tone of voice* 

SXAMPLB. 

Wbea the prond steed shall know why man reitralos 
His fieiy course or drives him o'er the plains ; 
When the doll ox, why now he breaks the clod, 
Is now a Tietim, and now Egypt's god :* 
Then shall man's pride and diilness comprehend 
His actions', passions', being's use and end : 
Why doings soffeiing, cheek'd, impeird,-*«nd why 
This hoar a slare, the next a deity. 

In this passage the words restrains and chd ought to 
have no inflection, and pbdns and god the rising. 

In the same manner^ if a question requires the sec- 
ond line of the couplet to adopt the rising slide^ the 
first ought to have a pause at the end, but the voice, 
without any alteration, ought to carry on the same 
tone to the second line, and to continue this tone al- 
most to the end. 

BXAXFLS. 

ShaD burning jfitna, if a sage requii«s» 
Forget to thnnder, and recall her fires f 
On air or sea new notions be impress'd, 
O blameless Bethel, to relieve thy broast ^ 
When the loose mountain trembles from on higi^ 
Shall gravitation eease, while yon go by ? 
Or some old temple, nodding to its fall, 
Tot Chartres' head reserve the hanging wall ? 

In this passage the three first couplets are questioud 
requiring the rising slide at the end, and must there- 
fore have the first lines end with a sameness of voice, 
which sameness must begin each succeeding line, and 

S3 



V3h RHBtcmt^At. 6)IAlllf AK. 

€Oiiti&oe till it approaishes the eady whicd adopts the 
rismg inflection* The lost fcouptet is of exactly -the 
same form as the rest ; but, as it ends a para^ph^ 
it must, both for the sake of variety and harmony, 
have its first line end with the rising, and its last with 
the falling slide. 

The same principles of harmony and variety induce 
us to read a triplet with a sameness of voice, or a 
monotone, on the end of the first line, the rising slide 
on the end of the second, and the falling on the last* 



Waller was smooth bnt Dryden tanght to join 
The varying veraC) the full resouni 
The long majestic march, and energy 



Loght to join ) 
iding line, > 
ergy divine. ) 



This rule, however, from the various sense of the 
triplet, is liable to many exceptions. But, with very 
few exceptions, it may be laid down as a rule, that a 
quatrain, or stanza of four lines of alternate verse, 
may be read with a monotone ending the first line, 
the rising slide ending the second and third, and the 
falling the last 

EXAM PLC. 

Full many a gem of purest ray serene 

The dark unfathom*d caves of ocean bear; 
Full many a flowV is bom to blush unseen, 

And wa»te its sweetness on the desert air. 

Qrajf^s EUgy. 

On blank verse. 

The structure and punctuation of blank verse are 
vast sources of errour and perplexity to young read- 
ers. Writers of blank verse affect to end the lint 
without any pause, or with as small a pause as possi- 
ble ; and readers are too apt, where they see no pause 
at the end of the line, to run the lines together with- 



unrmmicAjL ^baiimmu 179 

out attttdiR^ to sueh paEUseo as. tbey would ma^e in 
plt»e^ for fear we should suppose they do not know 
bow to read blank verse : this makes them frequently 
pronounce the words at the end of one line and the 
beginning of the next much more swiftly than any othr- 
er part of the verse, to the utter ruin of the harmony.: 
for all verse requires a stated regular march of the 
syllables^ and it is in this manJi the gra«deur and 
beauty of the verse consists. In reading blank verse, 
therefore, care most be taken to steer between the 
one extreme of ending every line with a pause ; and 
the other, of running one line into another more rap-* 
idly than if they were prose. 

With respect to the pause of suspension at the end 
of every line in blank verse, which some writers in- 
sist upon as necessary to the harmony, see Elements 
of Elocution, p. 277, where the subject is fully dis- 
cussed. 

AN EXPLANATION OF THE FIGURES OF 

RHETORIC, 

WITH OIBECTIOKS FOR THS PROP£R MA5NER OF FROlTOUNCTlfG THKM. 

Hitherto sentences have been considered only 
with regard to their external form, and their plain 
and obvious meaning. We have seen them in all 
their variety of simple and compound ; have observ- 
ed them in every diversity of structure; and have 
examined at large, and with some degree of attention, 
the connexion that subsists between their several 
parts, so as to determine the precise meaning and 
import of the whole. Thus far, however, sentences 



180 KHETOltlCAJL GRAilMAll; 

may be considered as pertmiog to grammar oidy.^ 
There is another view in which we may oootam^te 
them^ which may be called riietorical; and that ia^ 
not only when the sentence has a simple and definite 
meaning, but when this meaning is east into a peeofiar 
form^ and therefore called a figure : and it is to this 
latter meaning, that is^ to the fignratiTe sense of words, 
that language owes its |iecaliar force and beauty. 

The'se figures may be divided into two kinds; 
namely, into s«ch as are common to every species of 
composition, and into such as belong more particular^ 
ly to oratory. The former of diese^ such as meta- 
phors, allegories^ &c. have no reference to delive- 
ry, and may be considered as perfect^ whether they 
are spoken or not : the latter^ such as irony^ aposi^* 
opesis, climax, &c. suppose a pronunciation suitable 
to eaeh^ and without which they have not half their 
beauty; the first of these figures we may, for the 
sake of distinction^ call rhetorical^ and the last orator- 
ical. But, as many of the figures of each of these 
kinds are nearly allied to botfa^ it may not be improp* 
er to give a summary account of both, that each of 
them may be better understood. 

I shall not enter into a minute discussion of the dif- 
ference between a trope and a figure, but shall content 
myself with following the accurate and philosophical 
Du Marsais on this subject, who considers the former 

* Les grammariens et rh^teurs ayant fait des observatioRa sor lea dUtftran- 
tes mani^res de parlor, ils ont faites des classes particuliers de ces dlff^ran* 
tes manidres, afln da mettre plus d*ordre et d*arraiigeineiit dant leura iMei- 
ions. Les mani^rei de parier dans lesquelles ils n'ont remarqu^ d^autra 
propri6t6 que cellc de faire connoltre ce qu'on pense, sont appellees simple- 
VMtkiphrateSf expnstUmSf jtiriodea ; mais celles qui expriment non senlemevt 



des peosees mais encore des pens^cs 6nonc6e8 d'une mani^re paftlcttlS6re, 
c|ai lot donne un caract^re propre, celle»>lk dls-je sont appalfees Jigwrt$f 
par^e qu'elles poroissent; pour ainsi dire, sous une forme particuli<^re, et 



avec ce caract^re, propre, qui les distingue les nnes des antrat et de tout «• 
tui n^est que phrase ou ezprertion, Du Manaii dct Troptif p. 9. 



BHETOmiCAL OBAMMAB* 181 

as a speciei of the latter^ and defines a igare to be 
a manner of speaking distinguished by a particular 
modification^ which reiiaces it to a certain doss ; and 
vshich renders itmare Uvehfj mere nobkf and mare agree- 
abhj than a manner o^ speaking which expresses the 
same thought without Ms particular modification of it. 

Hiis he illastrates by a passage from Biuy^re, 
where he says^ ^^ There are certaia subjects^ in which 
aiediocrity is intolerable ; poetry^ music^ paintings and 
pubKc spe^ng«'' ^^ Here^^^ says Du Marsais^ ^^ there 
is no figure^ that is to say^ the whole phrase merely 
expresses the thought of Bruyere, without any turn 
which particulariy characterises it ;'^ but when he adds^ 
^ What punishment is it to hear a frigid composition 
pompously deliTcred^ or poor verses pronounced with 
emphasis!' ^^This/' says our author^ ^^is the same 
thought^ but there is added to it the expression of 
surprise and admiration ; and this expression makes 
it a figure.'' Or^ in other words^ a trope or figure is 
where a word or sentence is to be understood in a 
sense different from its most common and ordinary 
usage ; and it is this peculiar sense or form of the 
thought which constitutes die figure of the expression* 
This cannot be better illustrated than by the use of 
the word taste. When we say a person has a fine 
taste in wines, the word is used in its most common 
and ordinary sense ; but when we say he has a fine 
taste for paintings poetry, or music, we use the word 
figuratively : in the latter use of the word^ therefore, 
there is a figure, and in the former none. 

Having thus ^ven a general idea of the nature of 
rhetorical figures, I shall proceed to give a particular 
account of them ; and first of the metaphor. 



183 KBETOBICAIi QBAMMAB. 

Metaphor. 

A metaphor is an expression^ where a word or 
phrase departs from its more common and ordinary 
sense to another^ which it resembles in some respects^ 
and differs from in others ; or^ in fewer words, it may 
be defined to be a simile, or comparison, without the 
sign of comparison. Thus, when we say Demosthene$ 
was the bulwark of Athens, the word bulwark is « 
metaphor; because, as a bulwark guards a place 
from its enemies, so Demosthenes, by his eloquence, 
guarded the Athenian state. But if we say DemoB- 
thenes was a bulwark to Athens, then it becomes a 
simile or con^parison ; so that a metaphor is a strict* 
er or closer comparison, and a comparison a looser 
and less compact metaphor. 

'^ Metaphors," says an ingenious and judicious au* 
thor,^ ^' abound in all writings : from scripture they 
might be produced in vast variety. Thus our blessed 
Lord isjcalled a vme, a lamb, a lion, &c. Thus men, 
according to their different dispositions, are styled 
wolves, sheep, dogs, serpents, &c. And indeed meta* 
phors not only abound in the sacred writings, but 
they overspread all language ; and the more carefully 
we examine authors, not only poets but philojsophersy 
the more shall we discover their free and large use of 
metaphors, taken from the arts and sciences, the cua- 
toms of mankind, and the unlimited fields of nature.^' 

Allegory. 

An allegory is a continuation of several metaphors^ 
so connected in sense as to form a kind of parable or 

* Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 24. 



EHSTOBXCAL GRAMMAK. 183 

fable. It diflfers from a single metaphor^ says the 
above-mentioned author^ in the same manner as a 
cluster on the vine does from a single grape. This 
we may illustrate by a very happy example of his 
own^ where, speaking of the metaphor, he says, ^' Of 
all the flowers that embellish the regions of eloquence, 
there is none that rises to such an eminence, that bears 
80 rich and beautiful a blossom, that diffuses such a 
copious and exquisite fragrance, or that so amply re- 
wards the care and culture of the poet or the orator."f 
Quintilian observes, that the most beautiful species 
of composition is that where there is a mixture of the 
<(omparison, the allegory, and the trope ; an instance 
of which he gives us in the following passage from 
Cicero: 

" What estuttry, wfaat part of the sea, can you imagine so much vexed 
with the tossing and agitation of the waves ? How violent Jthe pertnrhations 
and fuiy of our popular assemblies, for the election of magistrates ! The 
space of only one day or night often throws all things into confusion, and 
sometimes only a small breath of ramour shall quite change the opinion of 
tho whola.people." i^jmOU. ISb, vu. cap. e. 

Metonymy. 

A Metonymy is a figure, where one name is put 
for another, for which it may be allowed to stand, on 
account of some relation or coherence between them. 
Thus, a humane prince is called a TituSj a cruel' one 
a Nero, and a great conqueror an Alexander. Cicero, 
speaking of the study of eloquence, says. 

To omit Greece, which always claimed the preeminence for eloquence : 
and Athens, the inventress of all sciences, where the art of speaking was 
invented and perfected ; in this city of ours, no studies have prevailed more 
than that of eloquence. 

Where the words Greece and Athens stand to denote 

* Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 27. 



184 hhbtokical grammaIi. 

the inbabitaiits of those places ; and it is this usage 
of the city or country for the inhabitants that forms 
the metonymy. 

Synecdoche. 

A Synecdoche puts the whole for a part^ or a part 
for the whole^ as> 

Thy growing viitiiM jiukified n j cares, 

And promis'd oomfort to my fi/eer Kain, JPopt'i Homer. 

That is, my old age. 

Achilles' wideHdestroying wrath» that pour'd 
Ten tkoutand woes on Greece, goddess, sing ! 

Homer*! nUd, b. L r. 1. Gibbon's Kui. p. 74. 

Where we may observe, that putting a certain number 
for an uncertain one, that is, ten thousand woes for 
the great number of woes brought on Grreece by the 
wrath of Achilles, forms a species of the figure of 
Synecdoche^ 

Hyperbole. 

An Hyperbole is a figure that goes beyond the 
bounds of strict truth, and represents things as great- 
er or smaller, better or worse, then they really are. 

MlUon'i strong pinions now at Hoav*n can bound, 

Now serpent lllce in prose he sweeps the groond. Pope, 

Virgil, describing the swiftness of Camilla, says : 

Camilla 

Outstripp'd the winds in speed upon the plain, 
Flew o*er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain : 
^he swept the seas, and, as she skimm'd along, 
Her flying foot unbath'd in billows hung. 

DryieHf Xin. vn. 

Catachresis. 

The CatackresiSj or abuse, borrpws the name of 
one thing to express another, which either has no 



fMr»per name ef its owb, or, ff 'it bas, the ^onrowed 
name is more surprising aod agreeable, on accouitt 
of its novelty and boMness : thus the word drinks i& 
the following passage, is so bold a figure as to be 
properly styled a Catachresis : 

Phemias ! let acts of gods and heroes old. 
What ancient bards in hall and bow'r have told 
Attemper'd to the lyre, yoar Yoioe employ, 
Such the pleased ear will drink with silent joy. 

Popt'9 Homer't Odyney. 

The figures which follow, and which, for the sake of 
distinction, may be styled oratorical figures, are such 
as derive much of their beauty from a proper delive- 
ry : this delivery we shall endeavour to describe ; and 
if the description conveys but a faint idea of the prop- 
er manner of pronouncing them, it must be remember- 
ed that a faint idea of this pronunciation is better than 
none at all. 

Irony. 

Irony is a figure, in which one extreme is signified 
by its opposite extreme ; or where we speak of one 
thing and design another, in order to give the greater 
force and poignancy to our meaning. Thus Cicero 
sometimes applies it in the way of jest and banter, 
where he says, 

We have much reason to believe the modest man would not ask him fclr 
• his debt, where he pursues his life. Pro Qutn/. c. 11. 

At other times, by way of insult and derision. Thus^ 
when he would represent the forces of Catiline as 
mean and contemptible, he says, 

O terrible war * in which this band of profligates are to march under Caf^- 
line. Draw out all your garrisons against this formidable body ! 

24 



186 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

And at other times^ in order to give the greater force 
to his argument^ he seems^ as it were, by this figare 
to recall and correct what he had said before : as in 
his oration for Milo : 

But it is foolish in as to compare Drums Africanus, and ourselves, witk 
X^lodius; all our other calamities were tolerable, but no one can patienUj 
bear the death of Clodius. 

In pronouncing the first of these passages^ we should 
assume an overacted approbation^ and such a tone of 
voice as seems to exclude all doubt of the integrity 
of the person we sneer at : this tone is low and drawl- 
ing^ and must be accompanied by a lifting up of the 
hands; as if it were a crime to think otherwise than 
we speak. 

In the second passage we must assume a fear^ as 
if occasioned by the most terrible danger. The voice 
must be in a high^ tremulous tone^ and the hands lift- 
ed up, with the palms and fingers open^ as if to defend 
us from approaching ruin. 

In the third passage we must assume a disapproba- 
tion^ approaching to contempt : the voice must be in 
a low tone^ and the right hand with the palm and 
fingers open, waved from the left to the rights as if 
to set aside something too insignificant to be attended 
to ; but the last member must have the tone of ap- 
probation, as if the objeet of it were something very 
noble and sacred. For this sentence, see pp. 87 and 
88, and the plate annexed. 



Satan beheld their plight, 



And to his mates thus in derision call'd. 
O friends, why come not on these victors proud? 
Erewhile they fierce were coming, and when we 
To entertain them with fair open front 
.1, And breast (what could we more ?) propounded terms 

Of composition, straight they changed their minds. 



* 
J 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 187 

Flew off, and into strange Tegaries fell 

As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seem'd 

Somewhat extravagant and wild : perhaps 

For joy of offered peace ; bot I suppose, 

If our proposals once again were heard, 

We should compel them to a quick result. 

JHUton^s Paradise Lori, b. vi. v. 609. 

This passage^ as Mr. Addison observes^ is nothing 
but a string of puns^ and those very bad ones too : 
but whatever may be its merits in other respects^ it 
affords an excellent opportunity of practising the pro« 
nunciation of irony. It must begin by an affected 
surprise^ and proceed with a seriousness and seeming 
sincerity till the seventh line^ when the word far is to 
have an emphasis with the rising inflection^ and to be 
pronounced with an air of uncertainty whether it were 
a dance or not. A sneer commences at perhaps^ which 
must be pronounced with a sly arch tone^ as if per- 
fectly secure of the consequences of 'another onset. 

Eqfhon£s%s. 

Exclamation and Interrogation have been treated at 
large in the former part of this work ; but there they 
have been considered only with respect to pause and 
inflection of voice : here it will be necessary to con- 
sider them more rhetorically^ and to endeavour to show 
what tones^ passions^ and gestures^ they demand. 

Ecphmesisj or Exclamation^ is a figure which shows 
that the mind labours with some strong and vehement 
passion. It is generally expressed by such interjec- 
tions as 0! Oh! Ah! Alas! and the like, which 
may be called the signs of this figure. 

"iut first we may observe, that while other figures 
a confined to some particular passion, this seems to 



188 



RHETORICAL GRAHWiCR. 



extend to all, and is the voice of nature under any kind 
of commotion or concern : this voices however, is not 
(as we are told in our grammars) always in a high 
and elevated tone : strong passion is not unfrequent- 
ly expressed by a low tone ; for, though both loud- 
ness and highness generally accompany any sudden 
emotion of soul, it is certain that we may cry out in a 
loud and high tone without much emotion, provided 
it is not sudden, without being either very high or 
very loud. The tone of the passion, therefore, must 
direct the tone of the voice in this figure. Accord- 
ingly we find that joy unexpected adopts this figure, 
and elevates the voice to the highest pitch. 



O my soul's joy ! 



If after ev'ry tempest come such calms, 

May the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! 

Shduptare*t OtkcB^. 

joy ! thoa welcome stranger ! twice three years 

1 have not felt thy vital beam ; but now 

It warms my veins, and plays about my heart : 

A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground, 

And I could mount Revenge^ act iii. 

Sorro\r in the extreme likewise adopts this figure, 
and raises the voice into a high tone : thus Lady Con- 
stance, in King Jolm, cries out, 

I am not mad — I would to heav'n I were ! 
For then 'tis like I should forget myself : 
Oh if I could, what grief should I forget ! 

But a slight degree of sorrow, or pleasing^ melancholy, 
adopts this figure in a soft middle tone of voice : thus 
the diike^ in Shakspeare's Twelfth Night, relieving 
his melancholy with music, says : 

That strain a^un f it had a dying fall ! 
Ob, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
iSlMliag tfad f^tag odour. 



EHETOItlCAL GRABflTAlt. 189 

While the eontemptnous reproach and impatience of 
Lady Macbeth uses the exclamation in a harsh and 
lower tone of voice : 



O propeir staff ! 



This is the very painting of your fears : 
This u the air-drawn dagger, which yoa saick 
Led you to Duacao. 

Thus Cicero^ speaking of his banishment^ fri^m which 
he had been so honourably recalled^ begins in a low 
and mournfal tone^ but ends in a high and exulting 
one : 

Oh mournful day to the senate and all good men ! calamitous to the sen- 
tfte, aflflictive to me and my family ; but to posterity glorious, and worthy of 
admiration ! 

Pro Sexi. cap. 12. 

Again^ in his defence of Ca&Iius^ endeavouring to ex* 
pose his accusers to the indignation of the courts he 
cries out^ in a loud and high tone^ 

Oh ! the great and mighty force of truth, which so easily supports itself 
against aU the wit, craft, subtlety, and artful designs of men ! 

At other times he adopts this figure to express disdain 
or contempt ; as when speaking of Pompey's house^ 
which Mark Antony had purchased, he says to him, 
in a I0W9 contemptuous tone, — 

Oh consummate impudence! dare you go within those walls? dare yoa 
renture over that Ycnerable threshold, and show your audacioift countenance 
to the tutelar deities which reside there? PhiUipic ii. c. 26. 

Thus we see the exclamation adapts itself to the 
passion which adopts it^ and is either in a high or low 
tone of voice, as the passion requires ; but as it is 
seldom adopted^ but when there is a strong eipotion 
of soul, it is generally heard in a loud tone, though 
not always in a high one : this distinction of voice is 
so litde understood or attended to, that it is no won- 



190 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

der we find our grammars eeboing from each other 
that this figure always requires a high and elevated 
tone. 

Erotesis, 

Erotesis^ or Interrogatiotij is a figure by which we 
express the emotion of our mind, and infuse an ar- 
dour and energy into our discourse by proposing 
questions. 

This figure, as it relates to grammar, has been al- 
ready treated of at large, and that slide or inflection 
of voice which distinguishes one species of it has been 
fully explained and inculcated: for, as the learned 
professor Ward observes, ^* Every interrogation or 
question is not figurative. When we inquire about 
a thing that is doubtful, in order to be informed, this 
is no figure, but the natural form of such expressions ; 
as if I ask a person, where he is going f or whoA he is 
doing? But it then becomes figurative, when the 
same thing may be expressed in a direct manner : 
but the putting it by way of question gives it a much 
greater life and spirit : as when Cicero says, Catiline^ 
how long wiU you abuse our patience ? Do not you per^ 
ceive your designs are discovered ? He might indeed 
have said, You abuse our patience a long while : ymi 
must be sensible your designs are discovered. But it is 
easy to perceive how much this latter way of expres- 
sion falls short of the force and vehemence of the for- 
mer.^' 

This figure, like the last, is the vehicle of every 

passion and emotion of the mind. But if we consider 
it only as a departure from the declarative form, and 
not accompanied by any passion, it wonderfully va- 
ries and enlivens the style, by holding personal con- 



RHBTOHICAL GRAMMAK. 191 

verse as it were with the reader or auditor^ and urg- 
ing him to attention by the answer it leads him to 
expect If this figure is formed by the verb* only^ and 
without the interrogative words, it frequently com- 
mences and continues with a monotone, and ends with 
an inflection of voice, which not only pleases the ear 
by the striking variety it produces, but rouses the 
attention by its more immediate address to the un- 
derstanding. But when to these marking properties 
we annex emotion or passion, this figure becomes the 
most powerful engine in the whole arsenal of oratory. 
How does Cicero press and bear down his adversary 
by the force of interrogations, when, pleading for his 
client^ he thus addresses himself to his accuser : 

I will make you this offer, Plancius ; choose any one tribe you please, and 
sliow, as you ought, by whom it was bribed : but if you cannot, and, in my 
opioioD, will not even attempt to do this, I will show you how be gained it. 
Is this a fair contest P Will you engage on tliis ground ? It is an open, hon- 
ourable challenge to you. Why are you silent ? Why do you dissemble ? 
Why do you prevaricate ? I repeatedly insist upon this point, I urge you to 
it, press it, require it, nay, I demand it of yon. 

His interrogations to Tubero, in his Oration for Liga- 
rius, have the same irresistible force. 

What, Tubero, did that naked sword of yours mean in the battle of Phar- 
salia ? at whose breast was lU point aimed ? What was then the meaning of 
your arms, your spirit, your eyes, your hands, your ardour of soul ? What 
did you desire, what wish for ? I press the youth too much ; he seems disturb- 
ed. Let me return to myself. I too bore arms on the same side. 

As these questions have the nature of a climax, they 
ought to be pronounced with increasing force to the 
end ; that is, every succeeding question should be 
pronounced higher and louder than the preceding, 
and the demand in the last example but one in a low- 
er and louder tone than all. 

What uncommon force and spirit do the questions 



194 EH£TORICAL aRAMMAK. 

ef Genoanicus to his ouitiiiiMU soldiers give to his 
reproaches ! 

What 18 there in these ^ays that yon hare not ttttempfted ? what have yiMi 
not profaned ? What name shall I give to this awembly ? Shall 1 call yo« 
soldiers ? y6u, who have besieged with your arms, and surrounded with m 
trench, the son of your 6mperor ? Shall I call you citizens ? y6n, who haTe 
so shamefully trampled upon the authority of the senate P yon, who have 
violated the justice due to Enemies, the sanctity of 6mbassy, and the rigbti 
of nations P TaeUuM, ^nnalt, lib. i. 

The beauty of this passage depends much upon the 
pronunciation of the word you : for as it is in apposi- 
tion to the question beginning with a verb^ like that 
it ought to have the rising inflection ; but this inflec- 
tion ought to be pronounced with a large scope of 
sound, beginning low and ending high^ the voice 
dwelling a considerable time on the pronunciation : 
this will in some measure express that surprise and 
indignation with which the questions are charged; 
and if the second you is made more emphatical than the 
£rst, and the third than the second, the force and 
variety of the passage will be considerably augmented. 
See Questionj page 103. 

AparUhmesisy or Enumeration^ Gradation^ and Clinaz. 

I have associated these different figures under die 
same head, because there is something as similar in 
their pronunciation as in their structure and meaning ; 
and this similitude may serve to illustrate and ex- 
plain what there is alike in the pronunciation of Mch. 
What IS common to these figures is an accumulation of 
particulars, which particulars form a whole ; and the 
pronunciation in all of them should mark strongly that 
unity and wholeness, in which the force and beauty of 
the figure consist. This pronunciation has been 



BVETORICAL GBAMMAB. 195 

exi^ained at hueg^ ia the article j&rte^y page 116y and 
to this the reader must be referred. It seems only 
necessary to add here^ that^ in proportion to the de- 
fg9ee of passioft with which a&y of these figures are 
charged^ the pronnnciation of the latter members 
ahould rise in force and elevation of voice above the 
former^ that the whole may eonclude with a suitable 
force and variety. But even where there is no pas- 
mon in the enumeration of particulars^ and one does 
not rise above another in importance, it seems highly 
proper to increase the force and elevation of voice on 
the latter members, in order to avoid too great a 
sameness, and to make the sentence end with harmony. 
Thus, when Cicero enumerates the great qualities of 
Pompey : 

What language can equal the valour of Pompey ? What can be said, eith- 
er worthy of him, new to you, or which every one has not heard ? For 
tbose an not the only virtaes of a general which are commonly thonght so. 
It is not courage alone which forms a great leader^ but indnstry in business, 
Intrepidity in dangers, vigour in acting, prudence in concerting, promptness 
in executing. All which qualities appear with greater lustre in him than in 
nil the other generals we ever saw or heard of. Proleg. Jftim. 

In the same m^anner, when Mr. Addison enumerates 
the several particulars in Milton's allegorical charac- 
ter of Death : 

The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, and fuH of 
sablime ideas : the figure of death, the regal crown upon his head, his men- 
ace of Satan, his advancing to the combat, the outcry at his birth, are cir- 
cumstances too noble to be pasted over uj silence, and extremely suitable to 
this king of terrours. Spuitdor, JVb. 310. 

In these enumerations we do not find the particulars 
rising in force as they proceed : but as their sameness 
of form requires a sameness of inflection, in order to 
show that they are parts of a whole, so a small in- 
crease of force and elevation on each subsequent par- 

25 



196 RHKTORICAL 6UAIIMAll« 

ticalar seema necessary, in order to make the whole 
more varied and agreeable. 

Climax, or gradation, taken in the strictest senae^ 
is an assemblage of particulars forming a whole ia 
snch a manner, that the last idea in the former mem- 
ber becomes the first in the latter, and so on, step by 
step, till the climax or gradation is completed. 
There is great strength as well as beauty in this fig- 
ure, when the several steps rise naturally out of each 
other, and are closely connected by the sense which 
they jointly convey. This mutual relation of part» 
we may perceive in the following example : 

There is no eDJoyment of property wiUiout governmeDt, no goverament 
withoat a magiftrate, no magistrate witliout obedience, and no obedieace 
where every one acts as he pleases. 

This climax is a concluding series, and must have 
its two first members pronounced with the falling 
inflection; the third with the rising, and the last 
with the falling, in a lower tone of voice than any of 
the rest. 

In the same manner, when Cicero is pleading for 
Milo, he says. 

Nor did he commit himself only to the people, bat also to tfie senate ; not 
to the senate only, bot likewise to the public forces ; nor to these only, bat 
also to the power of him with whom the senate had intrusted the whole 
commonwealth. 

In this climax the circumstances rise in importance^ 
and should therefore have an increasing force and 
elevation of voice as they proceed. The two first 
members must end with the falling inflection — these 
only with the rising, and the last with the falling, but 
in a more forcible and elevated tone than the rest. 

A similar figure from Cicero most be pronounced 
somewhat differently. 



BHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 197 

mat hop* ii tbBf» remaining of liberty, if whatever is their plearare, it is 
lawful for them to do ; if what is lawful for them to do, they are ahle to do ; 
if what they are able to do, they dare do ; if what they dare do, they really 
execate ; and if what they execute, is no way offensive to you ? 

In pronouncing this figure^ the voice roust adopt 
the falling inflection on each particular ; it must in- 
crease in force and elevation till it comes to the last 
member^ and this must have still more force than the 
former members^ but must be pronounced in a low 
concluding tone. 

A perfectly similar pronunciation will suit the fol- 
lowing climax from Shakspeare : 

What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ! how infinite in 
faculties! in form and moving how express and admirable ! in action how 
like an angel ! in apprehension how like a God ! Hamlet. 

Mr. Addision has a beautiful climax of circumstan- 
ces rising one above another^ when he is describing 
the treatment of negroes in the West Indies^ who some- 
times^ upon the death of their masters^ or upon chang- 
ing their service^ hang themselves upon the next tree. 

Who can forbear, says Mr. Addison, admiring their fidelity, though it ex- 
presses itself in so dreadful a manner ? What might not that savage great- 
Bess of soul, which appears in these poor wretches on many occasions, be 
raised to, were it rightly cultivated ? And what colour of excuse can there 
be for the contempt with which we treat this part of our species ? That we 
should not put them upon th( common foot of humknity ; that we should only 
set an insignificant fine upon the man who miirdeis them ; nay, that we 
should, as much as in us lies, cut them off from the prospects of happiness in 
an^er world as well as in this, and deny them that which we look upon 
aa the pcoper means for attldning it ? Spedafor^ No. 216. 

. The falling inflection with increasing force upon 
the words humanity, murders, and another ^ will give 
that force and colouring to this passage which it so 
richly deserves. 

But the series or climax never appears to such ad- 
vantage in pronunciation as when it is highly impas* 



198 



BHETORtCAL GBAIfMAR. 



Bioiied. Of this kind are the two foUowiog eurmples 
from Demosthenes : 

But since he has insisted so mncli upon the event, I will hasasd ft boM w- 
seilion. But I beseech you, Athenians, let it not be deemed extravagant, — 
let it be weighed with candour. I say, then, that, had we a!l known what 
misfortune was to attend our efforts, bad we all foreseen the final isme ; imd 
you foreiuld it,^8cbines ; bad you bellowed out your terrible denunciations 
(you, whose voice was never heard,) yet even in such a case must this city 
have pursued the very same conduct, if she had retained a thought of gloKy, 
of her ancestors, or of future tifoes. LUaad^t Danoaikenst, 

In my affection to 'my country, yon find me ever firm and invariable. 
Not the solemn demand of my person, not the vengeance of the Amphyction- 
ic council, which they denounced against me, not the terrour of their tiate- 
enings, not the flattery of their promises, no, nor the fury of those aecuiaed 
wretches, whom they roused like wild beests against me, could ever tear this 
affection from my br6ast Bnd. 



Epandphora. 

Epanaphoraty or Repetition^ is a figure which grace- 
fully and emphatically repeats either the same wordS| 
or the some sense in different words. 

This figure is nearly allied to the aparithmesis and 
climax^ and requires nearly the same pronunciation ; 
that is^ the repeated words must be proaMtnoed with 
a sameness of inflection^ but with an increasifig force 
and elevation of voice upon each. This expresses 
that force^ uniform ity^ and diversity^ which constituCe 
the beauty of this figure. 

There is scarcely a more beautiful inataftce of 
figure than in Cicero's Second Oration a] 



As trees and plants necessarily arise from seeds, so are yon, A^ato^, tbe wed 
of this most calamitous war. Yon mourn, O Romans ! that three of your 
armies have been slaughtered — ^they were slaughtered by A^ntony : yon la- 
ment the loss of your most iliustrious citizens — ^they were torn from you by 
A^'ntony: the authority of this order is deeply wottndM^it is wounded by 
A^ntony : in short, all the calamities we have ever since beheld (and what 



IllUrrOlICAL QRAMMAK* 199 

«idaiiiities bave we not bebeld ?) if we reason rightly, have been entirely 
owing to A^ntony. As Helen was of Troy, so the bane, the misery, the de- 
struction of this state— is A^ntony . 

The first part of this passage forms a kind of dia- 
logue; where both the question and answer require 
the same inflection^ but in different pitches of voice. 
Thus, You mourn J O Romans ! that three of your ar- 
mies ha/ve been sla^hteredy must be pronounced in an 
open middle tone of voice^ without much force ; but 
they were slaughtered by ArUowy, i» a lower, louder, 
and more energetic tone : the two suc^ceeding portions 
oufpht to be [u^nounced in the same manner, witli an 
increasing force and a higher tone on the word Anto- 
ny ; the two last members are of a different struc- 
ture from the former, and must be pronounced some- 
what differently ; that is, Antony must be pronounced 
in a lower tone than in the former members, but with 
increasing force to the last. In pronouncing this 
passage in this manner^ it has the effect of a climax ; 
every part has a relation to every part ; and all the 
parts belong to each other, and form a striking and 
harmonious whole. 

Sometimes, however, in this figure, especially in 
verse, the parts do not so necessarily belong to each 
other as to form a whole ; and when this is the case, 
the pronunciation ought to be as various and as 
musieal as posinble, that the repetition of the same 
words may not too much cloy the ear and injure the 
melody of the verse. 

Thus, in the lamentation of Orpheus for his beloved 
Eurydice, in Virgil's Georgics, b. iv. v, 465. 

Te dulcii oeiuux ; te solo io littore sccuiDi 
Te venieat« die, te d.ccedente, canebut. 



200 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

Th^ his toved wife along the lonely thores ; 
Th^y his I6ved wife, his monrnful song deplores ; 
Th4e, when the rising morning gives the light, 
Tfa^i when the worid was overspread with night 

Gibbon't Rheiorie, p. filO. 

This beautiful repetition requiring a tender^ plain- 
tive tone, does not admit of much variety, nor does 
it stand in need of it Every thee ought to have the 
rising inflection, and a pause after it. The first, his 
lotPd wtfej may have a pathetic monotone; and the 
second may have the falling inflection on hv^d, and 
the rising on wife, which will form a variety and add 
to the pathos. Some variety and pathos may also 
arise from pronouncing the second and fourth iheey 
with the voice sliding higher and a pause longer than 
at the first and third. 

Thus the beautiful repetition of the word ^/ofTn in 
Dryden's Ode requires such a variety only as is con- 
sistent with the harmony. Every falPn ought to have 
a long pause after it, with such an inflection as the 
verse requires ; and the tone of voice, with respect 
to its height, ought to be more elevated on the last 
than on any of the former. 

He chose a mouraful muse, 

Soft pity to infuse ; 
He sang Darius, great and good, 

By too severe a fate, 

Fdirn, mi'n, fMI'n, filPn, 

FAU'n from his high estate, 
And weltering in his blood. 

Lord Kames, in his Elements of Criticisniy tells us, 
that the line faU% falPn^ folPny faWn^ represents 
a gradual sinking of the mind, and therefore is pro- 
nounced with a falling voice by every one of taste 
without instruction. It is not easy to understand 



RBBTORICAL GRAUMAK* 201 

what his lordship means by the falling voice, with 
which he says this line is to be spoken. If he means 
that the voice is to fall gradually lower upon every 
succeeding word, we need but try this pronunciation, 
immediately to discover the impropriety of it ; but by 
the falling tone it is probable was meant a tone of pity, 
which increases as we repeat the words, but which by 
no means requires that the voice should drop into a 
lower key upon every succeeding word : this would 
entirely overturn the melody of the stanza, for the 
sake of something like a childish echo to the sense. 
The truth is, in pronouncing this repetition properly, 
we must assume a low plaintive tone, pronounce the 
first fdlPn with the rising inflection approaching to a 
monotone, the second nearly in a monotone with the 
falling inflection, the third with the falling inflection, 
and the fourth with the rising, without any monotone 
at all. The fifth fdPnj which begins the sixth line, 
must have the rising inflection sliding very high, that 
the voice may fall gradually upon the succeeding 
words, and form a cadence. 

There is a similar repetition in the first stanza of 
this ode^ which requires a variety of emphasis in the 
pronunciation, very important to the sense and har- 
mony of the whole. 

Hippy, hi^ppy* hSkppy piir ! 

None but the bnLve, 

Ndne but the brave. 

None bikt the brave, deserves the fair. 

The first line must be pronounced with the same 
inflections as the fifth line of the last example, but in 
a quite opposite tone of passion; that, in a low 
mournful tone 5 this in a high, gay and lively one. 



aO0t UHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

The second line must have the fallinx inflectioE with 
emphatic force on the word hraoe: the third liae 
muat have a stronger emphasis^ with the felling in- 
flection on fume ; and the last line a still more ford- 
Ue emphasis with the same inflection on hui: aad 
this diversity will be found absolutely necessary to 
prevent a too great sameness in the pronunciation* 

ProUpsis. 

Prokpsis or Anticipation^ is a figure^ by which the 
^speaker suggests ian objection to what he is - advanc* 
ing, and returns an answer to it. This figure affords 
an orator a favourable opportunity of altering his 
voice and manner^ and by this means of throwing a 
greater variety into his pronunciation. The nature 
of the figure dictates the manner of delivering it. 
When we propose an objection against ourselves, 
candour requires a certain fairness and openness of 
manner, which may show we do justice to the opinion 
of our adversary, and want to conceal nothing from 
our judges. This frankness of manner is best express- 
ed by a clear open tone of voice somewhat higher 
and louder than the general tone of the discourse, 
nearly as if we were calling out to a person at a dis- 
tance ; after which the answer must begin in a low 
firm tone, that the objection and answer may be the 
more clearly distinguished^ and that what we oppose 
to the objection may have more the appearance of 
cool reason and argument. An excellent example of 
this figure is in Cicero's Oration for Archias. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 203 

Row many examples of the brayest men have the Gfeek and Latin 
writers left us,— not only to contemplate but to imitate ! These illustri- 
oat models I haye always set before me in the goTemment of the state* 
and haye formed my conduct by contemplating their yirtues. 

But it will be asked, were those great men who are celebrated in his- 
tory distinguished for that kind of learning which you so highly extoU 
It would be diiBcult, I grant, to prove this of them all ; but what I shall 
answer is neyertheless certain. I own, then, that there have been many 
men of excellent dispositions, and distinguished virtue, who, without 
learning, and by the almost divine force of nature herself^ have attaM^ed 
to great wisdom and worth ; nay, farther, I will allow that nature with* 
out learning is of greater efficacy towards the attainment of glory and 
virtue, than learning without nature ; but then I affirm, that when to an 
•xcellent natural disposition are added the embellishments of learning, 
there always results from this union something astonishingly great and 
extraordinary. 

Before the prolepsis in this passage^ as generidly 
in every other where it occurs^ the voice fails into a 
low tone^ as having concluded some branch of the dis- 
course : this gives it a better opportunity of striking 
into the higher tone proper to the objection; and 
when this is pronounced^ the voice falls into a lower 
tone^ as it begins the answer^ and rises again gradu- 
ally with the importance of the subject. 

We have ^ beautiful instance of this figure in Cata : 

But, grant that others can with equal glory, 
Ijodk down on pleasures and the bait of sense, 
Wliere shaU we find the man that bears affiiction^ 
Great and majestic in his ills, like Cato i 

The two first lines of this passage require a plain^ 
highy open tone of voice ; and the two last a lower 
tone^ accompanied with a slight expression of reproach 
for supposing any one could be equal to Cato. 

Pope alTords us another instance of this figure : 

Tou think this cruel. Take it for a rule« — 
No creature smarts so little as a fool. 

26 



Hot Kknt&KtbK% tmklllf A!u 

Til* Words ^^ Yoa think this cWeF taust btfc \ftt- 
-sounced in a high^ kud tone of voice^ and the rest in 
a lower and softer tone. 

We have a striking instance of thii ftgiit^ fa tH>pc, 
where^ speaking of the dariAg flights of the ancients^ 
he says^ 

I know there are to whose presumptuotts thoughts 
Those iTreer beauties even in them seem faults ;. 
Some iSgures monstrous and misfehapM appeafr 
Considered singly or beheld too tiear, 
' Which but proportion'd to their light or placft, 
thie distance reconciles to form and Igrrace. 

Etsay on CrUitiiin,'r. I(i9. 

The objection and answer in this passage are so- 
littlfe distinguished by the Author^ that unless we dis- 
'tinguish them by a ditterenft tone of voice^ an afudi- 
tor would tiot Well conceive wfaete the objection eiii^ 
and "the ahsw^ begfas. Ih teHdii^ tlii^ pa3s«|;fe, 
therefore^ we tnust pronounce t!he two firstt l^ies it h 
^igb^ open/declarative tohe c^ voice^ and cmnfncfnce tlfe 
tiiiird in a low^ coVicessive tone^ approaching to a ittdii- 
otone ; this monotone must conttncr^ till 'near tiie tai 
6f the %fth line^ when the voice is to adopt the rising 
inflection in a somewhat higher tone at the end ; and 
to commence the sixth line in a still higher tone^ pause 
with the rising inflection at distance^ and finish the 
line with the voice going gradually lower to the end* 

Synchorisis. 

Synchoresisj or CancessioUj is a figure by which we 
grant or yield up something, in order to gain a pointy 
which we could not so well secure without it. 

This figure with respect to its pronunciation^ seems 
the reverse of the former. For in that^ as we must 



commence in an epea^ elevated tone^ and drop into a 
low and firm one^ so in this^ we must pronounce the 
concessive part of the figure in a low^ light tone, as if 
iirbat we allowed our adversary was of no i^r^at im- 
portai^oe, and then assume the argument in a strong 
elevated tone, as if we h^d acquired a dojuhje force 
from the concession we had made* Thus Ciceroj^ 
pleading for f lac(:us, ^n ordier to invalidate th^ testi- 
fnony Qf the Qreek3^ who were witnesses a^^nst h|^ 
^Ue^t, allows tliem every quality bi(t that which wa^ 
necessary to make them oredite4* 

This hoveveRy I My concerning aU the Greeks i— I grant them leara* 
lOg. the knowledge of many sciences $ I do not deny Uiat they have irit, 
line genius, and eloquence : nay, if they lay claim to many other escelr 
lencies, I shaU not contest their title : but this I must say, that nation 
neyer paid a pfoper regard to the religious sanctity of public evidence; 
«nd lODe ^Qtftl stTAiiffecs ^ the obligtti^i anthorityt and important of 

T\i^ first part of this pass^e, which forms the cqu- 
C^ssicpy should he spoken ^p a slight^ eaay manner^ 
and in a tone rather below that of common conversa'? 
lion ; but the assertion in the latter part should rise 
into a somewhat higher tone^ and assume a strength 
and firmness expressive of the force of the argument. 
It may not be improper to remark to those who un* 
derstand the two inflections of the voice, that the sev- 
eral members of the eoncession seem to require the 
rising inflection. 

Nothing more confounds an adversary than to grant 
him his whole argument^ and at the same time either 
to show that it is nothing to the purpose, or to offer 
something else that may invalidate it, as in the follow-^ 
ingexample*: 



206 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

I allow that nobody was more nearly related to the deceased than you ; 
I grant that he was under some obligations to you ; nay, tliat you bave 
always been in friendly correspondence with each other : but what is all 
this to the last will and testament ? 

The concession in this passage must be pronounced 
in a moderate^ conciliating tone of voice : but the 
question at the end must rise into a higher^ louder^ 
and more forcible tone. 

There is an uncommon force in a passage of Gate's 
speech concerning the punishment of the traitors in 
Catiline's conspiracy^ which manifestly arises from 
the figure upon which we are treating. 

Let therai since our manners are so corrupted, be liberal out of the 
fonunes of our allies; let them be compassionate to the robbers of the public 
treasury : but let them not throw away our blood, and, by sparing a lew 
abandoned villains, make way for the destruction of all good men. 

In this example the tone of voice^ with respect to 
height^ is nearly the same throughout : but the second 
member assumes a much stronger and firmer^ though 
rather lower tone^ and necessarily ends with the ris- 
ing inflection. 

Epanorihosis. 

Epanorthosisy or Correction, is a figure by which 
we retract or recall what we have spoken^ for the sake 
of substituting something stronger or more suitable in 
its place. 

. The use of this figure lies in the unexpected inter- 
ruption it gives to the current of our discourse^ by 
turning the stream as it were back upon, itself^ and 
then returning it upon the auditor with redoubled 
force and precision. The nature of this "figure dic- 
tates its pronunciation ; it is somewhat akin to the 
parenthesis. What we correct should be so pronounc- 



RHBTORICAL GRAMMAR. 207 

ed as to seem the immediate effusion of the moment ; 
for which purpose it does not only require a separa- 
tion from the rest of the sentence^ by an alteration of 
the voice into a lower tone^ but an abrupt discontin- 
uance of the member immediately preceding. This^ 
however^ is one of the most difficult things to execute 
in the whole art of speaking, and must be managed 
nicely, not to have the appearance of affectation : for 
which reason it would be better for the generality of 
readers to consider this figure merely as a parenthe- 
sis, and to pronounce it accordingly. Cicero makes 
use of this figure in his oration for lyiilo : 

Can you be ignorant, among the conyenation of this city, what laws — 
if they are to be called Iawb, and not rather the firebrandi of Rome and 
the plagues of the commonwealth — this Clodius designed to fasten and 
fix ut>on us ? 

The figure in this passage may be read like a pa- 
renthesis : the voice should break short at laws ; at 
if it should assume a lower, swifter, and more indig- 
nant tone ; at commonwealth it should slide upwards 
into what is called a suspension ; and at this assume 
the tone with which the sentence commenced. The 
same directions may be applied to the interjected 
member, in the following passage of Cicero, in his de- 
fence of Plancius : 

For what greater blow could those judges--if they ai« to be caUed 
judges, and not rather parricides of their country — ^have given to the 
state, than when they banished that rcry man, who, when prctor, deliT- 
«red the republic from a neighbouring, and who, when consul, saved it 
from a civil war. 

Sometimes this figure comes after the sense is com- 
pleted, and then the preceding member closes without 
the break ; but in this case we may make a pause af- 
ter the fii*st words of the correction, as if to demur 
and to correct ourselves, in order to rectify an over- 



90^ mw/tom^iAju aiuJVBi^m 

^l^t This may be «MmplifiQ4 m ^Q fn^^K^ fa^* 
sage of Cicwe?s ThUrd PtMlippi^ 

aa itQcredible i|pd divine spirit a^d courage, at t|iat yery time vben tl^ 
fury of AntoDfr was at its heiglit, aad when his cruel and pernicious r^m 
turn was 9% muoh dveadedi. wheo wt neitlies solicited nor imagined mm 
4esira4 it»baeauiif U seemed atlesty iB9ractical>lf,raiafd » Po^tpnwciif»| 
^rmj of invincible Teterans ; for which service he threw %way his own e»4 
tate } but— I have used an improper word-^e did not throw it away, be 
bestowed it Ibi the aalvation of the ooouiionweaUivi 

A pause at btU and werdy in tke ktter part of the 
sentence^ will mark the correction more atrongly. It 
may be remarked also^ that though this figure must 
be pronounced in a lower tone of voice than the fi>i> 
iner part of the sentence^ it ought to have much more 
force aad digiiity. 

Anastraphej or Inverston^ is a figure by which we 
place last^ and perhaps at a great distance from the be* 
ginning of the sentence^ what^ according to the com- 
mon order^ should have been placed first. 

Milton begins his Paradise Lost by a beautiful ex* 
ample of this figure* 

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of Uiat forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world* and aU our wo» 
With loss of £den» till one greater man 
Bestore us, and regain the blissful seat ; 
Sing* heav'niy umsel that on the tecri^ tof> 
Of Oreb or of Sinai didst inspire 
That shepherd whQ first taught the cb^osen feed 
In tiie beginning how the heav^is and earth 
99f^^to€^b«os. 

Tlie natned ofAcar of the wooda im this passage 
w¥AA have heen^ Hea/v^nly muse, sing of man's first 
SssheiieWiCey j&or^— and in this amuageaent of the 



iprdlSld Vb pMst ^9 necessary betwetfti lS«e t^A) sing^ 
kBd its object, of manh first disobedience^ &c. ; but wbeu 
the object of the verb, with all its concomitants, are 
placed befol*e the verb, as in the example, we theo 
find the pause preceding the verb sing increase in 
proportion to its distance from the beginidng of its 
object, of man^s first disobedience^ &c. 

It may be laid down as a good general rule, that^ 
whenever the natural order of the wOTds is changed^ 
there must be a pause between those portions that are 
disarranged, though no pause would be necessary, if 
the words were in their natural order. Thus in the: 
following passage from the stfme author : 

Th' angelic blast I 

9UPd aUfthe M(piOM : fhmi'their bUaful boViB 
Of amiQAmthine shade, founti^in, or sprii\g. 
By the waters of life, where*re they sat 
dh'fenowshSp ofjoy, Uie sdns of light 
tHtf^led, rtf iontog to'the^vmsloos^htgk, 
And took their seats. ' 9itr. LHt,*h. zL ▼• 76. 

The natural order of the words would be. The sens 
flight hasted from their blissful bou)^rSj &c. where we 
iiayobserve that a very small .pause, if a^y,'Would be 
admitted at hasted in this order of the words, but that^ 
as they stand in Milton, a considerable pause is re- 
quired at this word, and a still greater si. joy y as it 
is here the inversion ends and the natural order begins. 

We have in Lowth's Grammar another instance of 
the necessity of pausing when the order of the words 
is inverted, which is as worthy* of being quoted for 
^e good sense it contains as for the opportunity it 
afiords of exenaplifying the .present rule. 

4lie Qooneetiver parts of seiitciMte i»e*4he<flifMt'iiBportast.of«aU»,and 
Kqoire the greatest eare and attention ; for it is by these chiefly that 
tiie train of thought, the course 6f reasoVitig, anVl' the'^hole' progress of 



210 RHETORICAL 6RA1IMAR« 

tbe mind in continued discourse of all kinds is laid open i and on the 
right use of these the perspicuity, that is, the first and greatest beau^, 
of style, principally depends. Lowth*t Qramnutr^ p. 128. 

The adverbial phrases^ by these chiefly^ and on the 
right use of thescy are classes of words which would re- 
quire a pause^ even if they came in their natural or- 
der after the verbs laid open and depends ; but^ as 
they come before these verbs^ and are separated from 
them by many other words^ a long pause after each 
is indispensably necessary ; though in no edition of 
this grammar that I have seen is there any pause 
marked. 

Apostrophe. 

Apostrophe, or Occasional Address, is a figure in 
which we interrupt the current of our discourse, and 
turn to another person, or to some other object dif- 
ferent from that to which our address was at first di- 
rected. This figure is seldom used ; but when, in a 
violent commotion, the speaker turns himself on all 
sides, and appeals to the living and the dead, to an- 
gels and to men, to rocks, groves, and rivers, for the 
justice of his cause, or calls upon them to sympathize 
with his joy, grief, or resentment. 

The tone of voice to be employed in pronouncing 
this figure is as various as the passions it assumes ; 
but as these passions are generally very vehement^ a 
higher and louder tone of voice is generally necessary 
in the apostrophe than in that part of the oration that 
precedes it. When we address inanimate things, es- 
pecially if they are supposed to be distant, the voice 
must rise in height and loudness, as if the speaker 
were resolved to make them hear him. In this man- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 211 

Iter we may presume Cicero pronounced that fine 
-apostrophe in his Oration for Milo; when^ speaking 
«f the 4eath of ClodiuS| he saysf : 

O ye. judges I it was not by tiuinali counsel^ nor by liny thing less than 
^e immediate care of the iinmortal {jfodh, (hat this event has taken place. 
The very divinities themselves, who beheld that monster fall, seemed to 
ht moved, and to have inlicied their vengv-ance upon htm. I appeal to, I 
€aU to witness, you, O ye hills ana .groves of Albu ! you, the demolbhed 
Alban altars ! ever accounted holy by the Romans, and coeval with our 
religion, but which Clodiu^, in his mad fury, having first cut down and 
•levelled the n^ost sacrtd groves, had sunk under heaps of common build« 
ings ; I apf-'Ciil to you, I call ) ou to witness, whether your altars, your 
divinities, your powers, whidi he had poUuved with all kinds of wicked* 
-tiess, did not avenge themselves when this wretch was extirpated ? And 
tbou, O holy Jupiter 1 from the tieight of thy sacred mount, whose lakes, 
^oves, and bpundaries^ he had so often contaminated with his detestable 
impurities ;— «iid you, tlie other deities, whom he had insulted, at length 
^opened your eyes to punish tliis enormous offender. By you, by you, und 
4n your »ight, was the sl«>w, but the righteous and merited vengeance ex« 
ccuted upon biin. 

In pronouncing this passage^ it is evident that the 
speaker must raise his voice at lappeal^ &c. and, with 
a force and rapitlity bordering on enthusiasm, continue 
the voice in this pitch till the invocation of Jupiter, 
^ho, as the supreme being, is supposed to be present, 
and to be too sacred to be addressed with the sanie 
violence as inanimate objects ; for which reason the 
speaker must lower his voice into a solemn monotone, 
•and continue in his lower tone with increasing force to 
the end. 

Asyndeton and Polysy ndtton. 

Asyndeton and Polysyndeton^ or Omission and Re- 
dundance of Copulatives^ are figures by which the 
thought and language are strengthened and invigorat- 
ed either by leaving out or repeating the conjunctive 

particles. The learned Dr. Ward says, that ^<the 
27 



filS BHKTORteAX OKAiaiAB. 

asyndeton leaves out the connectiag particlefly 'ta rep- 
resent either the celerity of an actioa, or the haste and 
eagerness of the speaker $ and that die p0kfsyndH0m 
adds a weight and gravity to an expression^ and makes 
what is said to appear with an air of solemnity^ and, 
hy retarding the course of the sentence, gives the 
mind an opportunity to consider and refleet upon ev- 
ery part distinctly.'' 

System of Oratory^ vol. ii. pp. 50, 51. 

That these figures are very properly employed to 
signify swiftness or slowness of thought or action^ it 
cannot be denied ; but that they are not always so 
employed is evident from a thousand examples. But 
though we frequently omit the particles^ for the sake 
of a greater variety and compactness of style^ and to 
avoid a too tedious repetition, yet we ought never to 
introduce them but where the thought requires it^ and 
where they seem to accumulate force and emphasis to 
a subject. 

There is an example of both these figures in a pas- 
sage of Demosthenes^ which may serve to explain 
these observations. 

Fop as to naval power, and the number of forcf s, iwd revenaes, and a 
plenty of martial preparations, and in a word, as to other things that 
mi^ be estoemed the strength of a state, these are all both more and 
greater than in former times { but all these things are rendered uaelaas, 
inefficacious, abortive, through the power of corruption. FhiUppic iii. 

In the first part of this sentencoi the repetition of 
the conjunction and seems to add to the strength of 
the particulars it enumerates^ and each particular de» 
mands a deliberate and emphatic pronunciation in the 
rising inflection ; but the last part of the sentence^ 
without the particles^ being expressive of the impa* 



RHETOBICAL ORAHMAR. S13 

tience and regret of the speaker^ requires a swifter 
pronuneiation of the particulars. 

In the exordium to Cicero's Second Oration against 
Catiline, we have an instance of the asyndeton^ which 
19 much celebrated. 

At length, at length, O Romans ! have we driven, or despatclied, or 
fdrced into a roluiitary retreat, Luciui Citiline, intoxicated with insolence, 
braatbing out guilt, impiously meditating the destruction of his countr>, 
and threatening you and this city with all the calamities of fire and sword. 
He 19 gone, he is vanished, he is escaped, he is sallied out. 

The latter member of this passage, which forms the 
figure asyndeton, must be pronounced with a swiftness 
expressiire of the flight of Catiline ; but this swiftness 
should rather be in the pronunciation of the words 
themselves, than in omitting the pauses between them y^ 
ibr it may be laid down as a good general rule, that 
wherever there is a particle omitted, there must always 
be a pause ; and though in the present e3Lam||i^^ the 
pauses should not be so long as in solemn and delibe- 
rate pronunciation, yet it ought to be quite as. percep- 
tible, and bear the same proportion to the time taken 
up in delivering the words. 

These figures partake of the nature of the aparith- 
mesis, or enumeration, and require the same inflec- 
tion of voice on each particular, as in the series or 
dimax ; but as was before observed, though the poly- 
syndeton^ or repetition of particles, generally requires 
a solemn^ deliberate, and emphatic pronunciation on 
each particular, the asyndeton, or omission of parti* 
cles, dees not always require *a greater swiftness and 
precipitancy. 

I shall illustrate both these positions by examples 
tfom, the scripture : 



214 RH12T0RICA.L GUAMMAR. 

But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-sitfferiDg; 
gO'>dnes««, faith, meekness, temperance ; against such there is no law. 

In pronouncing this passage, we find it necessary 
to pause considerably after each word, that each may 
be distinctly apprehended ; nothing like swiftness or 
precipitancy is required here, but a calmness and de- 
liberation suited to the sense of the text ; but, in the 
following passage from Romans, viii. 35, every par^ 
ticular requires a degree of emphasis. 

Who shall separate us fi-om the love of Clirist ? Shall tribulation, or 
distress, or persccuticm, or famme, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? 
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, tlirough him that 
loved us. 

Here the members of the sentence, being interroga- 
tions beginning with a verb, require the rising inflec- 
tion approaching to a monotone, with a considerable 
stress upon each, but particularly on the last, where 
the vofte must slide much higher than on the rest, but 
each portion in the succeeding beautiful climax must 
have the falling inflection^ except the last at creature. 

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life ; nor angels, nor princi- 
palities, nor powers ; nor things pre>;en% nor things to come ; nor h<*iglit 
not depth ; nor any otjier creature, shall be able to separate ua frooi the 
love of God, which is in C'hri«»i Jesus <^ur l-or J 

This passage contains five portions of words^ each 
portion, except the last, forming a class of words asso- 
ciated either by their similitude or opposition : each 
of these classes, except the last, requires the falling 
inflection, with some degree of emphasis on the last 
word. The voice mustr be low, firm, and deliberate^ 
upon the first portion at life^ and increase its force, 
loudness, and elevation, by the smdlest degrees ; and 
in the same inflection on powers^ come^ and depth ; oo 
a^eature the voice should adopt the rising inflection^ 



RHfiTORICAL GRAMMAR. 215 

and tbea lower its tone deliberately and gradually to 
tiie end* 

EnatUiosis. 

Enantiosisj or Antithesis^ is a figure, by which things, 
very different or contrary, are contrasted or placed 
together, that- they may mutually set off and illustrate 
each other. 

Few of the figures of rhetoric derive more beauty 
from a proper pronunciation than this. The under- 
standing is not more enlightened by a contrast in the 
thought, than the ear is gratified by expressing this 
contrast with a suitable antithesis of the voice. Noth- 
ing can better illustrate the force and beauty of this 
figure, than a passage in Sterne's sermon on the house 
of mourning and the house of feasting, where, de- 
scribing the house of feasting, he says : 

When the gay and smiling^ aspect of thin{^ has begun to leave the 
passages to a maiiN heart thus* thoughtlessly unguarded— when kind and 
cai^ssing looks of every object without that can flatter his senses, have 
conspired with the enemy within to betray him and put him oiF his defence 
—when music likewise hath lent her aid, and tried her power upon t]ie 
passions— when the voice of singing men and the voice of sirtging women, 
with the sound of the viol and the lute, have broke in upon hi:* sou), and 
m some tender notes have touched the secret springs of rapture— that 
moment let us dissect and look into his heart— see how vain ! how weak ! 
how empty a thing it is! Look through its several recesses— those pure 
mansions formed for the reception of innocence and virtue— nad spectacle ! 
behold those fair inhabitants now dispo%seased— turned out of their sacrtd 
dweUmgs, to make ro^m— for what?— at the best fur levity and indiscre- 
tion—perhaps for folly— it may be for more impure gucbts, which possi- 
bly, in so gf neral a riot of the mind and senses, may take occasion to en- 
ter unsuspected at the same time. 

In pronouncing this passage, the voice ought to as- 
sume a plaintive tone approaching to a monotone, and 
proceed in this manner till it comes to the springs of 



216 EHKTORfCAIi OUMIU* 

rapture, when the former of these words w to koire €bm 
falling and the latter the rising inflection of yoiet^ 
sliding up to a considerable height; then the viuce 
must fall suddenly into a low tone^ with a sevmty 
approachiog to indignationy at the really wretdied 
state of the hearty under the disguise of so niueh seem- 
ing happiness. This sudden alteration of the voice 
from high and plaintive to low and indignant, will won- 
derfully set off the contrast in the descriptioo^ and 
give double energy and beauty to the thought 

We have another instance of this heauti^l figure 
in Shippen^s speech^ in Chandler's Parliamentary 
Debates^ where he shows the inefficacy of honest 
counsel^ when once vice and luxury have gained the 
ascendant in a state. 

If there are in thii new parliament anj men devoted to their frnoile h^ 
terest, and who prefer the gratification of their paiaiona to the aafiety and 
happineaa of their country, who can riot without remorse in the plander 
of their comtituentB, who can forget the aaf«ish of guiUin thenoiee of a 
feast* the pomp of a drawing-room, or the glare of an equipage, and tkak. 
expensiTe wickedness and the gaieties of folly equivalent to the fair &ine 
of fidelity and the peace of Tirtue—to them I shaU speidc to no puipoae; 
for I am far from imagining any power in my words to gain thoae in 
truth who have resigned their hearts to avarice or ambition, or to prarail 
upon men to change opinions, which they have indeed never believed^ 
though they are hired to assert them. For there ia a degree of wicked- 
ness which no reproof or argument can reclaim^ at there is a degree of 
stupidity which no instruction can enlighten. 

Chandler's Parliamentary DtbaUt, 1741. 

In pronouncing this passage^ we must begin the 
first part in a plaintive tone of voice, and continue 
this tone till the word virtue ; here the voice must be 
suspended some time in the rising inflection, after 
which it must drop into a low solemn tone on to <Aem, 
Sec. — ^this tone must continue nearly till the end, when, 
at Far there is, &c. to this tone must be added a degree 



( 



msTomfCiAt i»iAiniAK« 217 



if aspeiity and indigmttion^ with wUdi Iht pidssage 
must close. 

Thera are caiain extmfieB of tJiis figure, where, 
though the woirds and thoughts are opposed to eadi 
ochtir, they are in so siaali portions, and succeed eacli 
other so rapidly, that it would have the appearance 
of affectatioQ to endeavour to make any great differ- 
ence in pronouncing them. Thus Cicero, speaking^ 
of Pompey, says : 

He migcd mofe win flian others liad read : conquered more prortncet 
than otKers had g^ofenied : and had been trained up from his youth to the 
art of war ; not by the iireoepts of others, hut by his own commands ; 
aot by miscarriages in the field, but by Tictories i not by eampaingv, but 
by triumphs. Pro. Leg. Man. c. z. 

In pronouuciag this piassage, the opposing parts 
ought to iiav« no more dtversity than what is requir- 
ed hy tte harmony of the sentence ; but, in order to 
show the contrasted parts distinctly, it will not be im- 
proper to make a longer pause between them than if 
tfiere were no opposition in the sense; a pause of 
some lengtJi at warSy prwmces^ others^ and fields will 
be quite sufficient to show the antithesis in the thought. 

Hie same observations are applicable to another 
passage of Cicero, where, opposing the conduct of 
Verres, when governor of Sicily, to that of Marcellus^ 
who toiA Syracuse, the capital of that island, he says, 

Compare this peace, with that war ; the arriral of this goremor, with 
the victory of that general ; his profligate troops, with the inTincible 
army of the other i the luxury of the former, with the temperance of the 
latter :. you will say that Syracuse was founded by him who took it, and 
taken by him who held it when founded. 

In pronouncing this passage, it will be necessary to 
make a considerable pause between each opposing 
part.; and this, with the emphasis that naturally falls 



218 AHBTOBICAL GRAMVAS^ 

on these pftrts^ will sufficiently diversify them to the 
ear. 

There are other instances where^ though the con- 
trasted parts consist but of few words^ they require^ 
in pronouncing them^ a diversity of voice. Thus in 
Blair's Sermon on Gentleness : 

As there is a worldly happiness which God perceives to he no more 
than disguised misery ; as there are worldly honours which in his estima- 
tion are reproach ( so there is a worldly wisdom which in his sight is 
fbolishness. Of this worldly wisdom the cliaracters ure given m die 
Scriptures^ and placed in contrast with those of the wisdom which is 
from above. The one is the wisdom of the crafty ; tlie other, that of the 
upright : the one terminates in selfishness ; the other in charity : the 
one is full of strife and bitter envyings ; the other of mercy and of good 
fruits. 

The first principal constructive part of the first sen- 
tence of this passage mu^t be pronounced in a some- 
what elevated tone of voice^ and end with the rising 
inflection at reproach ; then^ after a pause, the voice 
* must drop into a somewhat lower tone, with which 
the last member must be pronounced. The opposing 
parts in the rest of the passage must be pronounced so 
as to pause after The anej &cc. and give the first mem- 
bers a higher tone, ending with the rising inflection on 
crafiy, selfishness^ and envyings ; then, after a pause^ 
the last member must be pronounced in a somewhat 
lower tone; and end with the falling inflection. 

ParaUpsis. 

ParalepsiSy or Omission^ is a figure by which the 
orator pretends to conceal or pass by what he really 
tneans to declare and strongly to enforce. 

Whatever we seem to give up, as a matter of small 
consequence, we generally pronounce in a higher an4 







RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. %19 

Mfter tone of voice than the rest : this is accompanied 
with an air of indifference that seems to make light of 
what we mention, and this indifference generally leads 
us to end the particulars with the suspension of voice^ 
properly called the rising inflection. Thus Cicero^ 
in his defence of Sextius^ introduces his character in 
the following manner^ with a design of recommending 
him to the favour of the judges : 

I mif^ht say many things of his liberality^ kindness to his domesticSi hig 
command m the army, and moderation during his office in the province ; 
but the honour of the state presents itself to my view, and calling me to 
it; advises me to omit these lesser matters. 

The first part of this sentence should be spoken in 
a soft high tone of voice^ with an air of indifference^ as if 
waving the advantages arising from his client's char- 
acter ; but the latter part assumes a lower and firmer 
tone, which greatly enforces and sets off the former. 

The same observations hold good in the pronuncia- 
tion of the following passage of his oration against 
Rullus, who had proposed a law to sell the public 
lands : 

I do not complain of the diminution of our revenues, and the voful ef- 
fects of this loss and damage. I omit what may give evety one occasion 
Ibr a vety i^^ievous and just complauit, that we could not preserve the 
principal estates of the publi«, the finest possession of the Roman people, 
the ftind of our provisions, the granary of our wants, a revenue entrusted 
with the state ; bat that we must give up those lands to RuUus, which, 
after the power of Sylla, and the largesses of the Gracchi, are yet left us ; 
I do not say, this is now the only revenue of the state, which continues 
when others cease ; is an ornament in peace, fails us not in war, supports 
the army, and does not fear an enemy. I pass over all these things, and 
reserve them for my discourse to the people, and only speak at present 
ef the danger of c »ur peace and liberties. 

Every member of this sentence^ where there is E 
paose^ must be pronounced with the rising inflection, 
commonly called a suspension of voice; the whole 

28 



itS(y RHETOBIGAL GRAMMAR. 

must have an air of indifierencey except the two or 
three last members^ where the voice must fall into a 
lower and firmer tone at and reserve them, and continue 
in this tone to the end. 

Anacoenosis. 

AnacoenosiSf or Communication^ is a figure by which 
the speaker applies to his hearers or opponents for 
their opinion upon the point in debate. Thus Cicero, 
in his Oration for Cs&cina, appeals to Piso : 

Suppose, Pisn, that any person had di-iven you from your house by 
Tiolence, how would you have behaved ? 

A similar appeal he makes use of in his Oration for 
Rabirius. 

But wliat could you have done in such a case, and at such a juncture? 
•—when to have sat still, or to have withdrawn, would have been coward* 
ice ; when the wickedness and fury of Satuminus had sent for you into 
the capital, and t1)e consuls had called you to protect the safety and Ijb* 
crty of your country ? Whose authority , whose voice, which party would 
you have followed ? and whose orders would you have chosen to obey i 

"This figure/' says an ingenious author^ **has 
something of the air of conversation ; and though 
public discourses ought not to be turned into mere 
conversation, yet a proper and decent mixture of such 
a sort of freedom entertains our hearers, both on ac- 
count of its variety^ and its apparent condescension and 
good nature.'' Gibbon^ Rhetoric, p. 166. 

From the account we have given of this figure^ it 
is sufficiently plain that it ought to be pronounced ia 
an easy, familiar, middle tone of voice; without passion, 
and with such a frankness and qpenness of manner^ as 
if we were fully satisfied of the justice of our cause, 
and venture it to be decided on the common princi- 
ples of reason and equity. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 221 

We have a shining example of this figure in the 
speech of the Lord Chief Justice to King Henry the 
Ftfih, to excuse himself for committing him to prison 
for striking him in the execution of his office^ when he 
was Prince of Wales. 

I then did use the person of votir father ; 
The image of bis power lay then in me $ « 
And in the administration of his law, 
While 1 was busy for the commonwealth, 
Tour highness pleased to forget my place. 
The majesty and pow'r of law and justice, 
• The image of the king whom I presented, 
And struck me in the very »eat of judgment ; 
"Whereon, as an offender to your father, 
I gr&ve bold way to my authority. 
And did commit you. If the deed were ill. 
Be you contented, wearing now the garland, 
To have a son net your decrees at nought, 
To plurk down justice from your awful bench. 
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword 
That guards the peace and safety of your personi— 
Nay more, to spurn at your most rnyal jmage, 
And mnck your work.ng in a second body. 
Question your royal th(»ughts, make the case yours ; 
Be now the father, and propose a son ; 
Hear your own dignity so much profan'd ; 
See your most drciidful laws so loosely slighted ; 
Behold yourself so by a son disdained ; 
And then imagine me taking your part^ 
And in your pow'r so silencint^ your son. 
After this cold consid'rance, sentence me ; 
And, as you are a king, speak in your stkte 
Wtuit I have done that misbecame my place. 
My person, or my liege's sovereignty. 

The pronunciation of this speech will derive its 
greatest beauty from an attention to the anacoenosis^ 
beginning at the eleventh line. The preceding lines 
must paiut the dignity of the office, the atrocity of the 
blow^ and the courage and resolution of the commit- 
ment ; but the succeeding lines must assume a differ* 



222 BHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

ent style ; they must begin by a frankness of manner 
approaching to indifference, but gradually assume a 
dignity, as they begin to describe objects of power, 
authority, and grandeur. An easy and almost indif- 
ferent manner takes place again at Questtan your rog- 
al thoughts ; but this manner, as in the preceding part, 
naturally slides into one more dignified at Hear four 
own dignity so much profaned, &c. — but at the lines And 
then imagine me^ &.c. — the voice again assumes the 
plain, open, frank, indifferent tone, till the concluding 
lines. After this cold considWancCj &c. when the voice 
assumes a firmer tone, to indicate a consciousness of 
the justice of the cause, and a confidence in the up- 
rightness of the determination. 

Hypotyposis. 

Hypotyposis, or Lively Description^ is a representation 
of things in such strong and glowing colours, as to 
make them seem painted or transacted to the hearer's 
imagination. 

This is the definition of the hypotyposis, which we 
find in most of our books of rhetoric : but if the defi- 
nition of a figure, which has been given at the beginning 
of this part of the present work, be a just one, de- 
scription is no more entitled to the appellation of a 
figure than narration, contemplation, reflection, or any 
similar expression of the mind. But, though rigor- 
ously speaking, it may not be a figure of rhetoric, it 
is a species of writing which deserves a very particu- 
lar consideration, as it is the subject of delivery ; for 
there is no part of composition which requires great- 
er taste and judgment, than thA where the descrip- 
tion of objects is strong and vivid, and where the 



RHETORICAL ORAMMAR. S23 

^sound seems an echo to the sense* Where the objects 
are common^ and the subject without passion^ the 
pronunciation ought to be plain^ simple^ and narrative ; 
but where the objects are grand, sublime, and terrific, 
the delivery ought to assume those emotions which 
the objects naturally excite. Where we describe pas- 
sion, our pronunciation must be impassioned, and thus 
we shall paint or draw a picture as it were of the ob- 
jects or transactions we delineate. Those who per- 
ceive the necessity and beauty of this rhetorical colour- 
ing, and yet want taste and discernment to know where 
to bestow it, and in what degree, generally overcharge 
the picture, and give such a caricature as disgusts us 
more than a total absence of every ornament. Great 
care therefore must be taken in the delivery of de- 
scription, that we do not become actors instead of de- 
scribers, and mimics instead of relaters. 

Cicero's character of Catiline is a well known in- 
stance of this figure. 

He had the appearance of the greatest Tirtues ; he made use of many 
ill men to carry on his designs, and pretended to be in the interest of the 
best men ; he had a very engaging behaviour, and did not want industry 
or application ; he gave into the greatest dissoluteness, but was a good 
soldier. Nor do I belieye there ever was the like monster in the worlds 
made up of such jarring and repugnant qualities and inclinations* Who 
at one time was more acceptable to the best men, and who more intimate 
vitb the worst P Who was once a better patriot, and who a greater ene- 
my to this state ? Who more devoted to pleasures, who more patient in 
labours ? Who more rapacious, and yet more profuse f He suited himself 
to the humours of all he conversed with ; was serious with the r es er ve d^ 
and pleasant with the jocose ; (^ve with the aged, and facetious with 
the young ; bold with the daring, and extravagant with the profligate* 

This description of Catiline, though uncommonly 
strong and animated, contains no striking imagery, 
BO objects of terrour or surprise, no traits of passion 
er emotion, and therefore requires nothing in the pro- 



224 RHETOBICAI. GRA10IAR« 

Banciatioa but a plaianess aad dUtinctaeas; I0119 
pauses between the contrasted parts^ and a somewhat 
higher tone of voice in the former than the latter^ m 
Ofder the better to show the opposition : thus the 
clause, fVho at one time was mare acceptable to the 
best men, should be pronounced in a more elevated 
tone than, and who mare intimate with the worst? 
and so of the rest. 

But in his description of the behaviour of Verres to 
a Roman citizen in the island of Sicily, we must ac- 
company the words with every passion excited by the 
objects^ or we shall deprive the passage of its greatest 
force and beauty. 

The unhappy man, arrested as he was goings to emhark for his nattfe 
countryy is brought befure the vicked prdor. With eyes darting ftny* 
and a countenance distorted witli crueity, lie orders tlie helpless victlni 
of his rage to be stripped, and rods to be brought ; accusing him, but 
without the least shadow of evidence, or even of suspicion, of having 
•ome to Sicily as a spy. It was in vain that the unhappy man cried out* 
''I am a Roman citizen! I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is 
now at Panormus, and will attest my innocence !" The blood-thirsty 
praetor, deaf to all he could urge in his own defence, ordered the in&- 
mous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fathers, was an innocent Roman 
citizen publicly mangled with scourging, whilst the only words he utter- 
ed, amidst his cruel sufferings, were, '^ 1 am a Roman citizen !" Willi 
these he hoped to defend himself from violence and infamy ; but of so 
little service was this privilege to him, that, while he was thus asserting 
his citizenship, the order was giving for his execution upon the crosa ! 

The beginning of this passage should be accom- 
panied with pity^ and something of the dismay of a 
person under the unhappy circumstances described. 
The description of the praetor should have a tincture 
of that fierceness in it which is so strongly marked. 
It was in vain the unhappy wan cried out, I am a Bo* 
man citizen / &c. should be pronounced in a loud, com** 
plaining tpne; and at The blood-thirsty prator, the 



UHBTOEICAL GRAMMAH* 229 

Toiee must again assume a tmettire of the fierce. The 
address to the judges should be pronounced in a low^ 
er and more tranquil tooe^ partaking strongly of the 
grief such a scene must excite in every generous 
breast ; and the conclusion, ^br his execution upon the 
crass^ must be accompanied with a low, hoarse tone of 
voice, expressive of that horror every Roman must 
feel to have a citizen suffer a death destined to the 
meanest slaves. How little did the orator suspect 
that this death, the ignominy of which seems to make 
him shudder, was soon to become the joy and exulta- 
tion of the world ! 

Instances of the hypotyposis in verse are innumer- 
able. Description seems the province of poetry. 
The scenery of nature naturally inspires us with num- 
bers, and these numbers heighten and embellish the 
beauties of nature. 

What can be more beautiful than the picture of a 
country life drawn by Virgil, and copied by Dryden« 

Hrre easy quiet, a secure retreat, 

A harmless life, that knows not how to cheat, 

With home-bred plenty the rich owner bless, 

And rural pleasures crown hts happiness. 

Vnvex'd with quarrels, undiMtnrbM with noises 

The country king bis peaceful realm enjoys { 

Cool grots and living lakes, the fluw'ry pride 

Of mead^, and streams that through the valley glide ( 

And shady groves, that easy sleep invite, 

Andy after toilsome days, a sweet repose at niprht. 

Otorg. b. ii. v. 467. 

This passage presents us with no sounding epithets^ 
no animated strokes of passion ; but a judicious read- 
er will not therefore suppose it devoid of expression : 
he will consider the disposition such a scene would 
excite in the mind; and accompany his pronunciation 



L 



8t6 BHBTOMCAl OBAUM AR. 

with such tones as express this disJMMritiofi. The 
tranquilhty of this scene, therefore, must be expressed 
by a soft, easy tone bordering on the plaintive ; it ad- 
mits of little or no variety, except dwelling a little long- 
er than common on the word caoly the sound of which^ 
it is presumed, is somewhat expressive of the sense* 

Milton's description of rural solitude is a master- 
piece of this kind. 

And wlien the san begins to ftin|^ 

HU flaring beaniF, me, goddess, bring 

To arched walJcs of twilight groves, 

And shadows brown that sylvan lores, 

Of pine or monumental oak, 

Wliere the rude axe, with heaved stroke, 

Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, 

Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt ; 

There in ckMe covert, by emne brook, 

Where no profaner eye may look, 

Hide me from day'fe gparish eye, 

While the bee, with boiiey*d thigh. 

That at her flow'ry work doth sing. 

And the waters murmuring, 

With such concert as they keep. 

Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep. U Paaertm. 

The first line, and as far of the second as to 6eaiii^, 
must be pronounced in a tone expressive of splendour ; 
the succeeding part of the line, and what follows it, 
must assume a cool, tranquil tone as far as haunt ; 
then the voice must fall into a lower tone approaching 
to a monotone, and proceed softly and slowly to the 
end. 

The description of a lady's toilet, in Pope's Rape 
of the Lock, is superlatively fine. 

And now unveil'd the toilet stands displayed. 
Each silver vase in mystic order laid 
First rub'd in white, the nymph intent adores, 
With head uneoveHd, the cosmetic pow'rs : 
A heav'hly image in the glass appears^ 



RHETOEICAL GRAIOIAa. tST 

To tliat abe bendt, to that lier eyies sbe v$n, 

Th' inferior priestess, at her altar's side» 
Tremblings begins the sacred rites of pride* 
Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and he ra 
The various efifrings of the world appear. 
From each she nicely culls with curious toili 
And decks the goddess with the glitfring spoil ; 
This casket India's flowing gems unlocks, 
And all Arabia breathes from yonder box : 
The tortoise here and elephant unite, 
Tranbform'd to combs, the speckled and the white. 
Here files of pins extend their shining rows, 
PuiFs, powders, patches, bibles^ billet-doux. 
Now awful beauty puts on all its arms, 
The fair each moment rises in her charms, 
Hepairs her smiles, awakens every grace, 
And calls forth all the wonders of her face I 
Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, 
And keener lightning quicken in her eyeSf 
The busy sylphs surround their darling care : 
These set the head, and those divide the hair i 
Some fold the sleeve, while others plait the gown ; 
And Betty's prais'd for labours net her own. 

This passage requires no great variety of voices but 
admits of considerable variety of expression ; and^ 
as the style is mock-heroic^ this expression may be 
much stronger than if the composition were simple 
and unaffected. A dignity, solemnity, and importance 
of voice and manner must describe the toilet and the 
nymph's approach to it, in the first six lines ; but the 
fourth couplet must be expressive of the dread and 
caution with which a timid servant assists a haughty 
beauty. The succeeding couplet must have all the 
splendour of pronunciation intimated by its objects^ 
and the next two lines must abate of this splendour^ 
to express the curious toil with which each is cul- 
led. The next four lines are to be as splendid and 
glowing as possible. The files of pins must shine 

29 



228 RHETORICAL GRAIIH AR. 

with great dignity and importance^ while the several 
articles of the next line must be pronounced simply and 
without ornament ; but the succeeding couplet has an 
awfulness and dignity approaching to devotion : the 
next four lines abate of this dignity^ to express rapture 
and surprise at such sudden and increasing flashes of 
beauty ; while the four last lines descend to an expres- 
sion of alertness and activity^ concluding with a com- 
placency and satisfied at having so well performed the 
important task. 

Under the figure called hypotyposis may be class- 
ed such words as are naturally descriptive of the things 
they signify ; that is^ such words as either from the 
softness or harshness^ length or shortness, of the letters 
of which they are composed, are expressive of the 
nature of the objects for which they stand; or, as 
Fop6 has happily expressed it, words, the sound of which 
is an echo to the sense. The occasional coincidence 
of the sound and sense of words has been an object of. 
attention with all writers, both ancient and modem, 
and those must be severe critics indeed who deny the 
propriety and beauty of this coincidence. It must be 
confessed that the affectation of this, like every other 
affectation, is truly disgusting; but proves, at the 
same time, that when this coincidence of sound and 
sense is natural and unaffected, it is really an excel- 
lence : for though defects are sometimes the objects 
of imitation, they are not imitated as defects, but be- 
cause they happen to be associated with some beau- 
ties which the imitator is unable to represent That 
there is much of imagination in this imitation of the 
sense by the sound of words, must be allowed. A 
judicious critic has very justly observed, that it most 



RHBTOBICAL GRAMBIAR. 229 

frequently exists only in the fancy of the writer op 
reader^ and that the words we often suppose to echo 
the sense have no other resemblance than what arises 
from association.^ But whence can arise the very 
general opinion that so many words are really expres- 
sive of the sense they stand for? It must be from 
their being generally accompanied by a certain emo- 
tion of mind^ which the meaning of the words excite ; 
and this emotion of mind being constantly associated 
with the words, the very sound of the words, accord- 
ing to the laws of association, seems tinctured with 
the emotion, which naturally it has no relation 
to. This, however, sufficiently shows how natural it 
is for man to accompany his words with emotions, and 
to expect emotions when he sees the words that gene- 
rally accompany them. Hence we may infer this gen- 
eral rule, that wherever there are words expressive 
of emotions, we ought to pronounce these words with 
the emotions they signify ; that is, when the language 
is impassioned, and the words are not merely narra- 
tive or didactic ; for in this c|se the words expressive 
of passion are to be pronounced as coolly, as if they 
stood for the most uninteresting objects. Thus in 
Pope's Essay on Man : 

Love, hope, and joy, fair Pleasure's smiling train ; 
Hate, fear, and grief, the family of Pain ; 
These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd. 
Make and maintain the balance of tlie mind. 

It would border greatly on affectation to give the 
£rst line of this passage any distinct and marking ex- 
pression of love, hope, and joy ; or the second line 
any strong expression of hate, fear, and grief; be- 
cause these passions are presented to the mind in a 

* Rambler, No. 93» 



it30 nHETORICAL GIIAMMAR. 

philosophic view^ and only mentioned as the materials 
of argument : but in the following passage from the 
same poet : 

Curs'd be the Tcne, how well aoe'er it flow, 
That tends to make one worthy man my foey 
Give virtue scandal, innocence a fear, 
Or from the soft-ey'd virgin steal a tear. 

The first line in this passage^ I say, must be pro* 
nounced with all that keenness of resentment we nata^ 
rally feel at injuries done to a worthy character : the 
second line must have a tincture of approbation ou 
the word worthy y to express that character ; and the 
third and fourth lines must assume somewhat of the 
plaintive, as they naturally exeite pity for amiable 
characters in distress. 

But though the words themselves frequently direct 
us to the passion we ought to express, it must be 
carefully observed, that there is often a master passion^ 
which so swallows up the rest, that whatever passions 
or emotions are mentioned by this leading passion^ 
they have scarcely any expression of their own, but 
seem to fall into the general expression of the passion 
that is principal. Thus when the duke of York, after 
describing the entry of Bolingbroke, gives an account 
of that of king Richard, he says. 

As in a theatre, the eyes of man. 

After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage. 

Are idly bent on him who enters next. 

Thinking hVs prattle to be tedious ; 

Ev'n so or with much more contempt, men's eyes 

Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried; God save him ! 

No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home. 

But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, 

AVhich with such gentle sorrow he shook off, 

(liis face stiU combating with tears and smiles. 



RHETCmiCAL GRAMMAR. 231 

The bftdges of his grief and patience) 

That had not God} for some strong purpose, steel'd 

The hearts of man, they mast perforce have melted. 

And barbarism itself have pitied him. 

But heaven hath a hand in these events ; 

To whose high will we bound our calm contents. 

Shaktpeare'i Richard 11. 

In this passage the prevailing passions are grief 
and pity ; these must so possess the speaker^ in recit- 
ing these lines^ that no expression of contempt must 
accompany that word in the fifth line^ nor the least 
glimpse of joy or acclamation the lines that follow : 
a slight expression of meekness may accompany the 
word gentle in the ninth line^ and the two last lines 
may with great propriety be a little diversified from 
the rest, by dropping in some measure the sorrowful^ 
and assuming the tone of reverence and resignation. 

Having premised these restrictions^ it may be ob- 
served^ that there are some words which afibrd a 
speaker a good opportunity of showing his expression 
by the very nature of the letters of which they are 
composed. Thus the word aU has a full^ bold^ open 
sounds which will admit of being dwelt upon longer 
than common^ especially if the language is animated ; 
either when emphatical, as in Satan's speech to Beel- 
zebub^ in Paradise Lost^ " 



.What though the field be lost. 



All is not lost :• 



or as narrative^ in the exordium to the first book : 

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world, and aU our wo» 
With loss of Eden, till one greater man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat. 
Sing, heav'nly muse.—— 



33S RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In these instances, as in most others, we seldoiB 
hear the word oB pronounced sufficiently full, and ex- 
pressive of the extent of its signification. The word 
shame will generally admit of being dwelt on in the 
same manner, as in the following example : 

strong and weighty, O Catiline ! is the decree of the senate we eaa 
■ow produce against you ; neither is wisdom wanting in this state, nor 
authority in this assembly ; but we» let me here tjjce shame to mysd^ 
we, the consuls, are wanting in our duty. 

Citero against CatiHne^ OnUion i. 

The word detestable is seldom used but when the 
language is animated, and then an uncommon force 
upon the accented syllable test^ that is, as Shakspeare 
calls it, in his picture of anger, ^^ holding hard the 
breath, and pronouncing it through the fixed teeth,'' 
will give it an expression of detestation very suitable 
to the idea it excites. This manner of pronouncing 
may be supposed to be what Shakspeare meant in 
Hamlet's advice to the players, by ^^ suiting the ac- 
tion to the word and the word to the action.'' The 
actor cannot suit the word to the action any other 
way than by pronouncing it. Thus where Cassius, 
in Julius Caesar, decribes Cssar and himself plunging 
into the Tyber, 

Upon the word} 
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in. 
And bade him follow ; so indeed he did. 

We may with the utmost propriety give a down- 
ward plunge with the arm, to express the action im* 
plied by the word, and I think as properly accompany 
this word and action with a full, deep, hollow, forci- 
ble tone of voice as suitable to the action; this^ if 
overdone, or come tardy oiT, as Shakspeare expresses 
it, I own is truly disgusting : but let those who dis- 
suade youth from attempting expression, by reminding 



BHETOBIGAL QBAMMAR. 233 

them of the hazard they run, remember, that every 
excellence borders close upon a blemish; but that 
unless we risk these blemishes, we can never hope to 
arrive at excellence. 

Vision. 

Vision is a representation of things distant and un- 
seen, as if they were actually present. This is so 
nearly related to the foregoing figure, as to be often 
confounded with it ; but there seems to be at bottom 
as much difference between this figure, where the 
speaker sees the object or transaction, and the hypo- 
typosis, where he only describes them, as there is be- 
tween a painting and an original. This is certain ; 
vision requires a much more animated pronunciation 
than description : in the former, the passions are ex- 
cited by the sight of the objects themselves ; in the 
latter^ only by the remembrance of them. Vision, 
therefore, is a figure which is never employed, but 
when the composition is highly impassioned, and the ' 
writer becomes a species of actor. Accordingly, we 
seldom find it employed in prose: it is among the 
poets we must look for instances ; nor are they to be 
very frequently found even here ; for we must not look 
upon such examples as are generally brought of this 
figure as real instances of it : this figure is never gen- 
uine but when the writer supposes he actually sees the 
objects he describes ; so that however strong and glow- 
ing description may be, yet without this circumstance 
it is not a true example of the figure in question. 

Pope has given us a striking instance of this figure 
in the beginning of his Elegy to the memory of an 
unfortunate Lady. 



^34 BHfiTOElCAL QRAMM AR. 

^hAt beck'ning gbost^ along thie moonlight shftde. 

Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade f 

Tis she-— but why that bleeding bosom goHd f 

Why dimly gleams the visionary sword f 

O ever beauteous, ever friendly, tell. 

Is it in heavVi a crime to love too well ? 

To bear too tender, or too firm a heart, 

To act a lover's, or a Roman's part i 

Is there no bright reversion in the sky 

For those who greatly think or bravely die i 

No composition can require a more animated pro- 
nunciation than thia passage : if the reader does not 
repeat it nearly as if he saw a ghost beckoning to him, 
he cannot be said to deliver it properly; the words 
would contradict the action. Whether an elegy may 
with propriety begin with so much fire is a question 
I leave others to decide ; but if so much fire be as- 
sumed in the writing, it ought undoubtedly to be ex- 
pressed in the speaking. The truth is, Pope^s per- 
sonal regard for the subject of this elegy, and his feel- 
ings for her unhappy fate, seem to have carried him 
beyond his usual accuracy in composition, as well as 
his delicacy of moral sentiments. For what can ex- 
cuse his reproach of heaven for disapproving of suicidci 
and his apology for this atrocious crime, by treating 
those as mean spirited wretches who dare not be guilty 
of it?* What is remarkable too is, that the lines in 
which these sentiments are conveyed are as feeble and 

* Why bade ye else, ye powVs ! her soul aspire 
Above the vulgar flight of low desire? 
Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes, 
Tlie glorious fault of angels and of gods : 
Thence to iheir images on earth it flows. 
And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows. 
Most souls, 'tis true, peep out but once an age. 
Dull, sullen pris'ners in the body's cag^ ,; 
Dim lights of life, that bum a length of years 
Useless, unseen, like lamps in sepulchres ; 
Like eastern kings, a lazy state tney keep. 
And close confio'd to their own palace sleep. 



RHETORICAL GRAMHAR. 33$ 

• 

childish as the sentiments are shocking: but when 
the poet descends from this impious flight at heaven^ 
and describes the truly pitiable view of an amiable 
object driven to an act of desperation^ and of the for- 
lorn and neglected state of her poor remains in a 
foreign clime — then we feel all the magic of his pen — 
we sympathize with the object of his pity^ and are 
transported to the very spot where she lies ^numbered 
with the un Honoured dead. These beauties are so 
bewitching as to make us forget the former part of the 
elegy, which, if united with lines less enchanting, 
would have startled us with their falsehood and perni- 
cious tendency. But, to quit this digression, (which 
it is hoped will be pardoned for the sake of unexperi- 
enced youth, to whom it may be useful,) we ought to 
pronounce the two first lines of this passage with a 
strong expression of surprise, mixed with some degree 
of fear, — the voice assuming a high and soft tone. 
^Tis she must be pronounced with a suddenness ex- 
pressive of joy at having discovered a lost, loved ob- 
ject; and the rest of the passage must assume the 
plaintive, with the voice in the rising inflection at the 
end of every second line. 

Shakspeare's description of Dover clifi^ is a beauti- 
ful instance of this figure ; for it is not the description 
of a thing past or absent, but as actually present to 
the speaker. 

Come on, sir, here*8 Uie place— stand still. How dreadful 
And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low ! 
The crows and choug^hs, that wing the midway air. 
Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half way down 
Hangs one that gathers samphire ; dreadful trade ! 
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head ! 
The fishermen that walk upon the beach 
Appear like mice ; and yon tall anch'ring bark 

30 



I 



236 BUETORICAL 6AAMMAH. 

DiminiahM to her cock ; her cock, a huoy 

AlmoBt too small for sight. The murmVing 8urge» 

That on the unnamber'd pebbles idly chafes. 

Cannot be heard so high. 1*11 look no more. 

Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight 

Topple down headlong. Shakspeart't JKtng Lear. 

This description commences^ after a long ^pause^ in 
a low tone of voice^ expressive of surprise and fear^ 
at Haw dreadful^ &c. The crows and choughs, &e. 
must have more of surprise and less of fear^ and be 
in a somewhat higher tone of voice. The next sen- 
tence assumes a lower tone, with moreof fear, especially 
on the exclamation dreadful trade ! The succeeding 
sentences have a little lighter tone of voice, and more 
of surprise, with a very considerable pause after each, 
as if the speaker took some time to consider the object 
before he described it The last sentence concludes 
in a lower tone, expressive of uneasiness at the conse- 
quences of continuing any longer on so dreadful a preci- 
pice. 

SimiU. 

This figure may be justly esteemed one of the most 
useful lights and greatest ornaments of compoation. 
In prose it greatly clears and enfol*ces a thought, and 
in poetry wonderfully enlivens and embellishes it. 
Little can be said respecting the pronunciation of this 
figure when in prose, only it may be remarked, that 
it generally admits of a longer pause than ordieary 
before it, that the reader may be prepared for the 
transition. Thus in Cicero's first oration against 
Catiline; 



If, in so dangerous a rebellion^ thja parricide alone should be extenmi 
ateds we may perhaps for a short time seem to be relicTed from anxiety 
and terror ; but the danger will remain^ and wiU be whoUy shut up ia 



BHETORICAL GRAlllCAR. 23T 

the ytihB md bovelt of tlie commonwealth. As men fprievously sick, 
when they are in the burning heat of a raging^ fever, upon taking a draught 
of cold water, seem at first to be refreshed by it, but afterwards are 
more heaTily and violently attacked by their distemper i in like manner 
this disease, under which the republic labours, will gain a respite by the 
extinction of Catiline, but will afterwards, as the rest of his accomplices 
still survive, return upon us witli redoubled fury. 

The simile in this passage has nothing in it that 
requires a pronunciation different from the rest ; but 
in poetry this figure always admits of being pronounc- 
ed in a lower tone of voice than the preceding lines ; 
and this tone generally falls into the plaintive^ and ap- 
proaches to a monotone. For as the mind in forming 
'a simile is seldom agitated with any very strong pas- 
sion, that tone of voice which expresses serene, tran- 
quil contemplatioR seems to be the tone suitable to 
die simile ; an4 this, if I am not mistaken, will be 
found to be the plaintive tone, approaching to a mono- 
tone. Not that this monotone is to be continued 
through the whole simile: if it does but commence 
with a monotone, it may slide gradually into such a 
diversity of inflection as the sense seems to require. 
So in that beautiful simile in ParnePs Hermit, where 
a pious mind agitated with doubts is compared to a 
«alm lake disturbed by a falling stone. 

A life so sacred, such serene repose, 
Seem'd heaven itself till one suggestion rose,-* 
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey ;— 
This sprung some doubt of Providence's sway. 
So when a smooth expanse receives impress'd 
Calm nature's image on its wat*ry breast, 
Down bend the banlcs, the trees depending grow, 
And skies beneath with ansr'ring colours glow : 
But if a stone th« gentle sea divide. 
Swift ruffling circles curl on every side ; 
And glimm'iring fragments of a broken sun, 
B^ks, treesi and skies in thkk disorder run. 



* 

• 



238 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In reading this simile, the voice should fall into 
a plaintive monotone at So when a smooth expanscj 
and continue this tone till the words wai^ry breast^ the 
first of which must have the falling, and the last the 
rising inflection. The next couplet must be pronounc- 
ed differently, that is, the rising inflection on growj 
and the falling on ghwj to express the portion of per- 
fect sense it includes. The rest of the simile must be 
pronounced with considerable variety ; the voice must 
assume va brisker^ swifter tone, and the inflections 
must be various, to express the variety of objects 
thrown together on a sudden. 

But in the following simile, from the same beautiful 
poem, where the youth shows the hermit the cup he 
has stolen, the voice must continue in a monotone till 
the last member, and looks xvilhfear, which must end 
with the rising inflection : 

Then pleas'd and thankful from tBe porch they go. 
And, but the landlord, none had cause of wo : 
His cup was vanish'd ; for, in secret g^ise. 
The younger guest purloln'd the glittering prize; 

As one who spies a serpent in his way, 
Glist'ning and basking in the summer rey, 
Disorder*d stops, to shun the danger near. 
Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear,— 
So seem'd the sire, when, far upon the road. 
The shining spoil his wily partner show'd. 

The same observations may be applied to a simile 
in a beautiful poem, called The Shipwreck, canto ii, v. 
175: ^ 

While o'er the foam the ship impetuous flies, 
Th' attentive pilot stiU the hchn applies : 
AS in pursuit along the aerial way, 
With ardent eye the falcon marks his prey, 
Kach motion watches of the doubtful chsse, 
Obliquely wheeling through the liquid sp^ce ; 
So govemM by the steersman's i^lowing' hands. 
The regent helm her motion stiU commands. •• 



RHETOiaCAL GRAMMAR. 239 

H ere the voice falls into a lower tone at the third 
line, and continues this tone to the end of the fourth, 
which concludes with the rising inflection : the next 
couplet requires exactly the same tone of voice, but 
must have the rising inflection in a somewhat higher 
tpne on s^ace^ when, after a long pause, the voice be- 
gins the last couplet in a higher tone than the two 
preceding ones, and admits of a variety of inflection 
on several of its parts. 

But when in descriptive poetry a simile is introduc- 
ed to illustrate some grand or terrible object, the 
monotone is no less suitable than fn placid subjects. 
This may be illustrated by a passage from the beauti- 
ful poem last quoted : 

Rouft'd from his trance, he mounts with eyes aghast, 
When o'er the ship in undulation vast 
A giant surge down rushes from on high, 
And fore and aft dissever'd ruins He ; 
As when, Britannia's empire to maintain. 
Great Hawke descends in thunder on the main, 
Around the brazen voice of battle roars. 
And fatal lightnings blast the hostile shores ; 
Beneath the storm their shatter'd navies groan. 
The trembling deep recoils from zone to zone ; 
Thus the torn vessel felt th' enormous stroke. 
The beams beneath the thund'ring deluge broke. 

In reading this passage the voice ought to fall into 
a lower tone at the fifth line, and continue nearly in 
a monotone till thunder on the main^ the first of which 
words must have the falling, and the last the rising 
inflection : the next couplet assumes the same low 
monotone, and continues it to hostile shoreSyVfhich adopt 
the falling and rising inflections like thunder and 
main: the succeeding couplet commences and con- 
tinues the monotone like the last till the two word^ 
zone and zone, the first of which has the falling, and 



240 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



the last the rising inflection^ in a somewhat higher tone 
** than in the two former lines : but the last couplet, 
which applies the simile^ begins in a high tone of 
voice^ adopts the falling inflection on vessel^ and lowers 
the voice gradually on the last line to the end. 



Prosopopeia. 

Prosopopeittf or Personification^ is the investing of 
qualities or things inanimate with the character of 
persons^ or the introducing of dead or absent persons, 
as if they were al^e and present. This is at once 
one of the boldest and finest figures in rhetoric. Poets 
are prodigal in their use of this figure^ but orators 
more sparing, as nothing but a degree of enthusiasm 
can make it appear natural. The general rule for" 
pronouncing this species of figure will be easily con- 
ceived, when we recollect that, wherever we give 
language to a character, we must give that language 
such a pronunciation as is suitable to that character. 
Thus, when Cicero introduced Milo as speaking to 
the citizens of Rome : 

Should he, holding up his bloody sword, cry out, "Attend, I pr&y» 
hearken, O citizens ! I have killed Clodius ; by this sword, and by this 
right hand, 1 hare kept off his rag^ from your throats, which no laws, no 
courts of judicature could restrain ; it is by my means that justice, equi- 
ty, laws, liberty, shame, and modesty, remain in the city."— Is it to be 
feared how the city would bear .this declaration f Is there any one who^ 
in siich a case, would not approve and commend it ? 

In pronouncing this passage^ we must give the words 
of Milo all that energy and fire which we suppose 
would actuate him on such an occasion. The right 
arm must be lifted up and extended ; the voice loud- 
and elevated^ as if speaking to a multitude^ and al- 



ftHETOmiCAL ORAHMAH. 241 

nost e^ery word most be emphatical ; a long pause 
must precede the first question^ which must begin in 
a low tone of voice^ and end with the rising inflection ; 
and as the last question is in opposition to the firsts by 
contrasting approbation with disapprobation^ it ought 
to be pronounced differently^ and end with the falling 
inflection ; according to the rule laid down in the Ele- 
ments of Elocution. 

But here a question will naturally arise about the 
force we are to give to this figure when we only read 
it. Are we^ it will be demanded, to give all the force 
and energy which we suppose Milo made use of, when 
we merely read it in Cicero's orations ? Yes, it may 
be answered, if we read these orations oratorically. 
But if we read them only to inform our hearers of the 
subject, without assuming the character of the orator, 
it is certain that there is no necessity for the same 
force as in the rostrum. The character we assume 
when we take up the book makes all the difference. 
The pronunciation expected from a gentleman by a 
small circle of his friends is as different from that of 
the orator, as the language of the orator is from the 
chit-chat of conversation ; but if the gentleman should, 
for the entertainment of his friends, assume the char- 
acter of the orator, it is then expected that he should 
give the composition all the force and energy of which 
it is susceptible, that is, all the force and energy that 
would become the characters whose words are assum- 
ed. Thus Milton may be read by a person who forms 
no pretensions to public notice in a manner very dif- 
ferently from one who pronounces from the rostrum ; 
but if Milton be read to the greatest advantage, it 
must certainly be in the latter^ and not the former 



242 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

manner ; though it must still be carefully observed, 
that these two manners differ only in degrees of force ; 
the tones, inflections, and gesticulations, are essen- 
tially the same in both. 

It was observed, in speaking of the Hypotyposis, 
that there is often a leading passion, which so absorbs 
the mind of the speaker, as to give every other pas- 
sion which passes through it a strong tincture of itself. 
This leading passion may, for the sake of distinction, 
be called primary, and the other, secondary. If ^ve 
so far forget the primary passion as to assume the 
secondary entirely, we fall into mimickry, and render 
our expression, however just in other respects, ridic^ 
ulous. Thus, in the following speech of Hotspur ia 
the first part of Henry the IVth : 



>For it made me mid 



To see him shine so brisk, and -sroen so 8Weet> 

And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman, 

Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (heaT'n save the mark !) 

And telling me the sorereign'st thing on earth 

Was spermaceti for an inward bruise ; 

And that it was great pity, so it was, 

That Tillanous saltpetre should be digg'd 

Out of the bowels of Uie harmless earth. 

Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd 

So cowardly ; and but for these vile g^ns, 

He would himself have been a soldier. 

This bald onjointed chat of his, my lord, 

I answer'd indirectly, as I said ; 

And I beseech you let not his report 

Come current for an accusation 

Betwixt my love and your high majesty. 

If the hero who pronounces this description were to 
divest himself of the primary passions, anger and con- 
tempt, and go so far into the secondary as to assame 
the character he describes, we might laugh at him as 
a mimic, but^should despise him as a man :— no ;> while 



ttHBTOBICAL GRAMMAlt. 243 

the leading passions, anger and contempt, have prop- 
er possession of him, they will keep him from a too 
servile imitation of the object of his resentment ; but 
that a considerable degree of imitation should be al- , 
lowed ifk the pronunciation of this passage is not to be 
disputed. . The same observations hold good in pro- 
nouncing the words of Ca&sar, in a speech of Cassius^ 
where he is describing that hero under the paroxysms 
of a fever : 



-I did hear him groan : 



Ay, and that tongue of bis, that bade the Romans 
Mark biro, and write his speeches in their books, 
• Alas ! it cried, giTe me some drink, Titinius ! 

As a sick gir l Shakspeare*t Julius Ctuar, 

If these words of Ciesar, Give me some drmk, Titi- 
nitiSf were to be pronounced untinctured with that 
scorn and contempt with which Cassius is overflowing, 
and the small feeble voice of a sick person were to be 
perfectly imitated, it would be unworthy the character 
of Cassius, and fit only for the buffoon in a farce. 

These observations will lead us to decide in many . 
other cases. There is a beautiful prosopopeia of a 
hoary-headed swain in Gray's Elegy in a Country 
Church Yard : 

'For thee, who, mindful of tli' unhonour'd dead. 

Dost in these lines their artiess tale relate, 
If chance, by lonely contemplation led. 

Some kindred spirit should inquire thy fate. 
Haply some hoary^eaded swain may say, 

** Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn, 
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, 

To meet the sun upon the upland lawn,'' Sic. 

Nothing can be conceived more truly ridiculous, in 

reading this passage, than quitting the melancholy 

tone of the relator, and assuming the indifferent and 

rustic accent of the old swain : and yet no error so 

31 



244 BHETOEICAL GRAXMAB. 

likely to be mistaken for a beauty by a reader of oa 
taste : while a good reader^ without entirely dropping 
the plaintive tone, will abate it a little, and give it a 
slight tincture only of the indiffisrence and msCidty of 
the person introduced. # 

But where the personification is assumed instanta- 
neously, and does not arise out of any other passion^ 
provided we are reading to the public, it ought to have 
exactly the same force and energy as in dramatic 
composition. Thus the sublime rage of Gray^s Bard : 

Ruin seize thee, nithless king, — 

Confusion on thy banners wait ! 
Though fann'd by conquest's crimson wing. 

They mock the air in idle state. 
Helm nor hauberk's twisted mail. 
Nor e'en thy virtues, tyrant, can avail 
To save thy secret soul from nightly fears. 
From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears* 

These lines, I say, demand an elevation of roice, 
and an expression of the utmost rage and resentment ; 
but in this expression we must attend more particu- 
' larly to the caution of Shakspeare, " that in the very 
torrent, tempest, and I may say, whirlwind of our 
passion, we must acquire and beget a temperance tjiat 
may give it smoothness.'' 

The personification of pride, in Pope's Essay on 
Man, is not preceded by any other passion, and may 
therefore be allowed a forcible expression. 

Ask for what end t^ heavenly bodies shine. 
Earth for whose use : Pride answers, '' 'Tis for mine. 
For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r. 
Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry fiow'r ; 
Annual for me the grapci the rose, renew 
The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew ; 
For me the mine a thousand treasures brings, 
Fcir me health giuhes from a thousand springs \ 



EHBTORICAL GRAHMAI^. 245 

Seaa roll to waft me, tuns to light me rise, 
BIy footstool earth, my canopy the skiei." 

This passage admits of a certain splendour in the 
pronunciation expressive of the ostentation of the 
speaker, and the riches and grandeur of the objects 
introduced. 

Many other figures of rhetoric might be adduced.j 
but as few of them deserve the appellation, and none 
seem to have any thing to entitle them to a peculiarity 
of pronunciation, I shall at present content myself 
with those I have given, and hope the reader will not 
find the directions I have added entirely useless. 



MODULATION AND MANAGEMENT OF THE 

VOICE. 

ONE of the most difficult things in reading and 
speaking, where the subject is varied and impassion- 
ed, is the modulation and management of the voice : 
and this perhaps of all the parts of elocution is the 
least capable of being conveyed by writing ; but gen- 
eral rules and useful hints may^ certainly be given 
which will put the pupil in a capacity of feeling his 
own powers, and of improving himself! Such rules 
and bints we shall endeavour to lay down in as clear 
and summary a manner as possible. 

The first object of every speaker's attention is to 
have a smooth, ^en, full tone of voice : if nature has 
not given him such a voice, he must endeavour as 
much as possible to acquire it : nor ought he to de- 
spair ; for such is the force of exercise upon the or- 
gans of speech, as well as every other in the human 



246 KHETOUICAL GllAMMAR. 

% 

body 5 that constant practice will strengthen the voice 
in any key we use it to ; that key therefore^ which is 
the most natural^ and which we have the greatest oc- 
casion to use, should be the key which we ought the 
the most diligently to improve. 

Every one has a certain pitch of voice, in which 
he is most easy to himself and most agreeable to oth- 
ers ; this may be called the natural pitch : this is the 
pitch in which we converse ; and this must be the basis 
of every improvement we acquire from art and ex- 
ercise. In order, therefore, to strengthen this middle 
tone, we ought to read and speak in thfs tone as loud 
as possible, without suiTering the voice to rise into a 
higher key : this, however, is no easy operation : it 
is not very difficult to be loud in a high tone ; but 
to be loud and forcible, without raising the voice into 
a higher key, requires great practice and manage- 
ment. The best method of acquiring this power of 
voice is to practise reading and speaking some strong, 
animated passages in a small room, and to peraona 
''placed at as small a distance as possible : for, as we 
naturally raise our voise to a higher key when we 
speak to people at a great distance, so we naturally 
lower our key as those we speak to come nearer: 
when, therefore, we. have no idea of being heard at a 
distance, the voice will not be so apt to rise into a 
higher key when we want to be forcible : and conse* 
quently exerting as much rorce as we an able in a 
small room, and to people near us, will tend to swell 
and strengthen the voice in the middle tone. A good 
practice on this tone of voice will be such passages as 
Macbeth's challenge to Banquo's ghost, or any other 
that are addressed immediately to a person near us^ 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. M7 

What man dare I dare : 
Approach thou like the nigged Russian bear, 
The arm'd rhinoceroa, or Hyrcanian tiger ; 
Take any ahape but that, and my firm nerves 
Shall never tremble. Be alive again, 
And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; 
If trembling I inhibit, then protest me 
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow ! 
Unreal mock'ry, hence ! 

Instructions for acquiring low Tones of Voice. 

As few voices are perfect^ — those which have a 
good bottom often wanting a top^ and inversely^ — care 
should be taken to improve by practice that part of 
the voice which is most deficient : for instance ; if we 
want to gain a bottom^ we ought to practise speeches 
which require exertion, a little below the common 
pitch ; when we can do this with ease, we may prac- 
tise them on a little lower note, and so on till we are 
as low as we desire ; for this purpose, it will be ne- 
cessary to repeat such passages as require a full, audi- 
ble tone of voice in a low key : of this kind are those 
which contain hatred, scorn, or reproach ; such as the 
following from Shakspeare, where Lady Macbeth re* 
proaches her husband with want of manliness : 



O proper stuff! 



This b the very painting of your fears : 
This is the air drawn dagger, which you said 
Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts, 
(Impostors to true fear) would well become 
A woman's story at a winter's fire, 
Attthoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself! 
Why do you make such faces f When all's done* 
You look but on a stool. 

Or when Lady Constance, in King John, reproach- 
es the duke of Austria with want of courage and spirit : 



I 



248 HtaETORICAL GRAHMAB. 



Thoa aUre f thou wretch ! thou coward ! 
Thou little valiant, great in ▼illany ! 
Thou ever atrong upon the atronger aide ! 
Thou fortune*a champion, thou doat never fight 
But when her humorous ladyahip ia by 
To te»ch thee atifety ! Thou art peijur'd too^ 
And aooth'at up greatneaa. What a fool art thou, 
A ramping fool; to brag» and atamp, and aweat. 
Upon ray party ! Thou cold blooded alave, 
Hast thou Jiot spoke like thunder on my aide ? 
Been sworn my aoldier ? bidding me depend 
Upon thy atars, thy fortune, and thy atrength ? 
And doat thou now fall over to my foea t 
Thou wear a lion's hide 1 Doff it for ahame^ 
And hang a calPa akin on those recreant limbs. 

Or where the duke of Suffolk^ in Henry the Sixth, 
eurses the objects of his hatred : 



•Poiaon be their drink, 



Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest meat they taatd ; 
Their sweetest ahade,a grove of cypress trees! 
Their sweetest prospect, murd'ring baailiaka ! 
Their softest touch, as smart as lizard's sthigSi 
Their music, frightful as the serpent's hiss ; 
AjkL boding screech-owls make the concert full ; 
All the foul terroura of dark-seated hell ! 

Instructions for acquiring high Tones of Voice. 

When we would strengthen the voice in a higher 
note^ it will be necessary to practise such passages as 
reqire a high tone of voice : and if we find the voice 
grow thin^ or approach to a squeak upon the hi^ 
note, it will be proper to swell the voice a little below 
this high note, and to give it force and audibility, by 
throwing it into a sameness of tone approaching the 
monotone. A passage in the oration of Demosthenes 
^n the crown will be an excellent praxis on this tone : 



What was the part of a faithful citizen ? of a prudent, an acti^e^ 
inmeat minister f Was he not to secure Euboea, as our defence againct 



RHSTOBICAL 'GRAUMAR. 249 

all uttftdu by vea f Was be not to laake B«otia oar barrier on the mid* 
land side ? the cities bordering on Peloponnesus our bulwark on that 
quarter i Was he not to attend with due precaution to the importation 
of com, that this trade might be protected through all its progress up to 
our own harbour ? Was he not to cover those districts which we com- 
manded by seasonable detachments, as the Proconesus^ tlie Chersonesus, 
and Tenedos t to exert himself' in the assembly for this purpose ? while 
with equal zeal he laboured to gain others to onr interest and alliance, as 
Byzantium, Abydos, and Eubcea f Was he not to cut off the best and 
.most important resources of our enemies, and to supply those in which 
our country was defective ?— And all this you gained by my counsels and 
my administration. LtlmUPt Demodkemea 991 Uu Crsipn. 

It will naturally occur to every judicious reader^ 
that this series of questions ought to rise gradually in 
force as they proceed, and therefore it will be neces* 
sary to keep the voice under at the beginning ; to 
which this observation may be added, that as the ris- 
ing inflection ought to be adopted on each question^ 
the voice will be very apt to get too high near the 
end ; for which purpose it will be necessary to swell 
the voice a little below its highest pitch ; and if we 
cannot rise with ease and clearness on every particu- 
lar to the last, we ought to augment the force on each, 
that the whole may form a species of climax. 

Instrudums for the Management of the Voice. 

As the voice naturally slides into a higher tone^ 
when we want to speak louder ; but not so easily into 
a lower tone, when we would speak more softly : thq 
first care of every reader and speaker ought to be, to 
acquire a power of lowering the voice when it is got 
too high. Experience shows us, that we can raise our 
voice at pleasure to any pitch it is capable of ; but 
the same experience tells us, that it requires iofinite 
art and practice to bring the voice to a lower key 



250 



HHETORICAl GBAMMAR. 



when it is once raised too high. It ought therefore 
to be a first princig^e with all public readers and 
speakers^ rather to begin under the common level of 
their voice than above it. 

Every one^ therefore^ who would acquire a variety 
of tone in public reading or speaking, must avoids as 
the greatest evil^ a loud and vociferous beginning; 
and for this purpose it would be prudent in a reader 
or speaker to adapt his voice as if only to be heard 
by the person who is nearest to him : if his voice 
has natural strength^ and the subject any thing im- 
passioned in it, a higher and louder tone will inseasi- 
bly steal on him ; and his greatest address must be 
directed to keeping it within bounds. For this pur- 
pose, it will be frequently necessary for him to recall 
his voice, as it were, from the extremities of his audi- 
tory, and direct it to those who are nearest to him. 
This it will be proper to do almost at the beginning 
of every paragraph in reading, and at the introduc- 
tion of every part of the subject in discourse. Noth- 
ing will so powerfully work on the voice, as suppos- 
ing ourselves conversing at different intervals with 
different parts of the auditory. 

If, in the course of reading, the voice should slide 
into a higher tone, and this tone should too often re- 
cur, care must be taken to throw in a variety, by be- 
ginning subsequent sentences in a lower tone, and^ if 
the subject will admit of it, in a monotone ; for the 
monotone, it is presumed, is the most efficacious means 
of bringing the voice from high to low, and of altering 
it when it has been too long in the same key. This 
may appear paradoxical to those who have not studi- 
ed the subject ; but if every sentence begins high and 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



251 



ends low^ or iaveraely, though the sentences singly 
considered will have a variety, yet, if considered col- 
lectively, they will have a sameness; so, by com- 
mencing sometimes with a monotone, though this mon- 
otone may have a sameness, yet, as associated with 
other tones, it will certainly augment the variety. 
Grand, solemn, awful subjects, admit best of the mon- 
otone: a beautiful example of this ojfTers itself in 
Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination, on the power of 
novelty ; 

Wliat need wotds 
To paint its pow*r ? ^For thia the daring youth 
Breaks from his weeping mother's anxious a^ms, 
In foreign climes to rove : the pensive sagfe. 
Heedless of sleep or midnight's harmful damp. 
Hangs o'er the sickly taper ; and untir'd 
The virgin follows, with enchanted step. 
The mazes of some wild and wond'rous tale, 
Trom mom to eve ; unmindful of her form^ 
Unmindful of the happy dress that stole 
The wishes of the youth, when ev'ry maid 
IVith envy pin'd. Hence finally by night, 
The village matron, round the blazing hearth, 
Suspends the infant-audience with her tales, 
Breathing astonishment ! of witching rhymes. 
And evil spirits ; of the death-bed call 
To him who robb*d the widow» and devour'd 
The orphan's portion ; of unquiet souls, 
Ris*n from the grave to ease the heavy guilt 
Of deeds in life conceal'd ; of shapes that walk 
At dead of night, and clank their chains, and wav« 
The torch of hell around the murd'rer's bed. 
At eVry solemn pause the crowd recoil, 
Gazing each other speechless, and congeal'd 
V^ith shiv'ring sighs : till, eager for th' event. 
Around the beldame all erect they hang. 
Each trembling heart with grateful terrors quell'd. 

in reading this passage the voice ought to assume 
a lower tone, approaching to a jnonotone^ at the word 

3^ 



A 



252 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Iwnce, and to continae this tone for about two lines^ 

when the voice will gradually g6 into a little variety^ 

and slide into a somewhat higher tone ; it must again 

fall into a low^r tone ; and be in a monotone at cf 

shapes thai walk at dead of nighty &c. and continue 

in this tone^ with very little alteration^ to the end of 

the sentence. The rest of the passage must preserve 

the lower tone< and be pronounced so as to be in some 

measure descriptive of those pleasing^ anxious terrours^ 

so finely painted by the poet 

If we are speaking extempore^ and. want to lower 

the voice, we ought, if possible, to introduce some 

passion that naturally assumes a lower tone, such as 
scom^ indignation^ &c* Let us try to illustrate thb 
by an example : 

Come, Antony, and young OcUvius, coiDe» 

Revenge youraeives alone on Cassius ; 

For Cassius is a- weary of the world ; 

Hated by one he lores^ brav'd by his brother, 

Cbeck'd by a bondsman, all his faults obsefT'd, 

Set in a note-book, leam'd, and conn'd by rote, 

To cast into bis teeth. Oh, I could weep 

My spirit from my cye^ ! There is my dagger, 

And here my naked breast — within, a heart 

Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold : 

If that thou need'st a noman's, take it forth-; 

I, that denied thee gold, wiU give my heart : 

strike as thou didst at Cxsar ; for I know, 

VlThen thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him better 

Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius. Shaktpcort't JtUiut Cttaar. 

The beginning of this speech naturally carries the 
voice into a high tone, and, the same passion continu- 
ing, there is no opportunity of lowering the voice till 
the eighth line, when indignation at Oh, I could weep 
my spirit from my eyes naturally throws the voice Into 
a harsh, low tone, and gives it fresh force to pro- 
nounce the rest of the passage. 



KHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 253 

Rules for Gesture. 

It may not perhaps be useless to bestow a few obser- 
vations on gesture. This part of delivery^ though 
confessedly of such importance among the ancients^ 
is that which is least cultivated among the moderns. 
The reason of this difference is foreign to the pres- 
ent purpose : let it suffice that awkward or improper 
gesture is a greater blemish in reading and speakings 
than using none at all ; and that in this part of orato- 
ry particularly we ought to be more careful to avoid 
faults than to attain beauties. To descend^ however^ 
to a few of those particulars^ to which it should seem 
we ought chiefly to attend — 

It may first be observed^ that in reading much less 
action is required than in speaking. When we read 
aloiie, or to a few pers^ons only in private, we should 
accustom ourselves to read standing ; the book should 
be held in the left hand ; we should take our eyes as 
often as possible from the book, and direct them to 
those that hear us. The three or four last words at 
least, of every paragraph, or branch of a subject, 
should be pronounced with the eye pointed to one of 
the auditors. When any thing sublime, lofty, or heav- 
enly, is expressed, the eye and the right hand may be 
very properly elevated ; and when any thing low, in- 
ferior, or grovelling, is referred to, the eye and hand 
may be directed downwards : when any thing distant 
or extensive is mentioned, the hand may naturally de- 
scribe the distance or extent; and when conscious 
virtue, or any heartfelt emotion or tender sentiment 
occurs, we may clap the hand on the breast exactly 
over the heart. 



254 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

In speaking extempore^ we should be sparing of 
the use of the left hand, which, except in strong emo- 
tion, may hang easily down the side. The right hand 
ought to rise, extending from the side, that is, in a 
direction from left to right, till it is on a line with the 
hip ; and then to be propelled forwards, with the fin- 
gers open, and easily and differently curved : the arm 
should move chiefly from the elbow, the hand seldom 
be raised higher than the shoulder, and, when it has 
described its object, or enforced its emphasis, ought 
to drop lifeless down to the side, ready to commence 
action afresh. The utmost care must be taken to keep 
the elbow from inclining to the body, and to let the 
urms, when not hanging at rest by the side, approach 
to the position we call akimbo ; we must be cautious 
too, in all action but such as describes extent or cir- 
cumference, to keep the hand or lower part of the arm 
from cutting the perpendicular line that divides the 
body into right and left ; but above all, we must be 
careful to let the stroke of the hand which marks force 
or emphasis, keep exact time with the force of pro* 
nunciation ; that is, the hand must go down upon the 
emphatical word, and no other. Thus, in the execra- 
tion of Brutus, in Julius CsBsar: 

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous. 
To lock such rascal counters from his friends^ 
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, 
Diufi him to pieces. 

Here the action of the arm which enforces the em- 
phasis ought to be so directed, that the stroke of the 
hand may be given exacly on the word dash; this 
will give a concomitant action to the organs of .pronun- 
ciation, and by this means the whole expression will 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ^ 255 

be greatly augmented. This action may be called 
beating time to the emphasis^ and is as necessary in 
forcible and harmonious speaking as the agreement 
between the motion of the feet and the music in danc- 
ing. 

Hence we may see the propriety of a common ac- 
tion in colloquial argumentation^ when we wish to en- 
force the particulars of any series; which is^ by 
striking the table at the end of each particular^ in 
order to impress it on the mind. This is the impulse 
of unpremeditated feelings and may be truly called 
the action of nature ; and if we can but acquire a 
habit of accompanying a premeditated series with the 
same action^ we shall give it a force and beauty well 
worthy the attention of the speaker. 

But this emphatic stroke^ as it may be called, must 
be used with judgment. The hand is to give it only 
to such members as require the falling inflection of 
voice^ as those which require the rising may be prop- 
erly accompanied by raising the hand. 

Thus^ in Cicero's oration against Verres : 

I demand justice of you, fathers, upon the robber of the public trdasuiy, 
the oppressor of Asia Minor and PampbyHia, the invader of the rights and 
privileges of R6mans, the scourge and curse of Sicily. 

Here the hand may very properly enforce the two 
first members with the downward stroke^ but at the 
third it should rise with the rising inflection^ and fall 
with the fialling upon the last. 

A question^ therefore^ requiring the rising inflec- 
tion on each particular, must have each particular^ 
accompanied by a raising of the hand^ as in the follow- 
ing example. 



256 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

« 

' Would Ml infinitely wise beinc^ make such gloriouB beings for so m€ui 
m purpose ? C&n he delight io the production of such abortive intelli. 
gence, such 8h6rt-lired reasonable beings ? Would he give us talents 
that are not to be exerted, capacities that are not to be gratified f 

9paU€tar,fCc. 111. 

This elevation of the hand on each particular will 
certainly mark that suspence and degree of surprise 
which are inseparable from this species of question, 
as the downward stroke of the hand accompanying 
the falling inflection will give it double force and en- 
ergy. , 

If the student wishes to acquire an easy, unaffected 
and regular style of action, he may consult Elements 
of Gesture, prejEbced to the Academic Speaker. 

Thus has been attempted a regular course of in- 
struction, which, from the new points of view in which 
several of the parts have been placed, it is hoped will 
be found generally useful. Those who wbh to enter 
more fully into this subject, and have leisure and in- 
^ination for philosophical reflections upon it, may 
consult a work lately published, called Elements of 
Elocution ; where the nature of accent and emphasis, 
the variation and modulation of the voice, and the ex- 
pression of the passions, emotions, and sentiments^ 
are copiously and systematically considered. 

COMPOSITION. 

IN a rhetorical grammar, it may be justly expected 
that composition, which forms so essential a part of 
rhetoric, should not be entirely omitted : yet so much 
has been written on this part of the art, and so ably 
has it been treated both by the ancients and modems, 
that I might well excuse myself by referring my read- 



UHBTORICAL grahmah. 257 

ers to Aristotle^ Dionysius of Halicarnassus^ Quintilian^ 
and Cicero, among the former, — and to Blair, Camp- 
bell, and Priestly, among the latter, — for every thing 
that learning, genius, and experience, have produced 
upon the subject. What 1 tan offer must be little 
more than gleanings, after so copious a harvest ; and 
if even these gleanings should be claimed as the prop- 
erty of those who have preceded me, I shall willingly 
forego my claim, and be content to rank in this field 
as an humble compiler of a few scattered hints, which 
have occurred to me in a long course of teaching a 
part of rhetoric which has not been so much laboured 
by my predecessors. 

In the first place we must lay down as a maxim 
of eternal truth, that good sense is the foundation of 
all good writing. Understand a subject well, and 
you can scarcely write ill upon it. This, however, 
must be understood only of works of science ; for works 
of imagination, beside a thorough acquaintance with 
the subject we write upon, require a quick discernment 
of the happiest manner of presenting a subject to the 
mind. This opens a wide field to the powers of man, 
as it takes in all the beauties of poetry and elo- 
quence, — beauties which, though founded in nature 
and good sense, owe almost all their force to the im- 
agination and address of the writer. 

Rhetoric, or the art of persuasion, therefore, seems 
to demand a union of both these powers. Good sense 
must be embellished with appropriate language, vivid 
imagery, and agreeable variety ; and the imagination 
must be tempered by good taste, sound judgment, 
and chaste expression. In short, the rhetorician 
should above all things attend to the advice of the 
poet : — 



\ 

f 



358 HHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 



"w 



And mark that point where sense and dttlness meet. . 

Pope't Essay on Criticism. 

The first thing to be attended to in all compositioii 
intended for delivery is^ when we have fixed upon a 
subject^ to form a plan of treating it. 

The parts which compose a regular oration are 
these six ; — the exordium^ or introduction ; the state 
and division of the subject ; the narration^ or explica- 
tion ; the reasoning, or arguments ; the pathetic parts; 
and the conclusion. It is not necessary that these 
must enter into every public discourse, or that they 
must always be admitted in the order in which they 
are here set down. There are many excellent dis- 
courses in which some of these parts are altogether 
omitted : but as they are the natural and constituent 
parts df a regular oration, and as in every discourse 
some of them must occur, it is agreeable to our pres- 
ent purpose to speak of each of them distinctly. 

The introduction should be easy and natural: it 
should always be suggested by the subject; nor should 
it be planned till after the writer has meditated in 
his own mind the substance of his discourse. In short, 
it should be like the preface to a book, which, though 
presenting itself first, is generally written last; for 
which reason I have seen a whimsical writer who plac- 
ed it at the end instead of the beginning of his work. 
The introduction is seldom the place for vehemence 
or passion : the audience must be gradually prepared, 
before the speaker can venture on strong impassioned 
sentiments. A becoming modesty, therefore, is al* 
most essential to the composition as well as the delive- 
ry of this part of an oration. 

In dividing a subject, we must be always careful to 



aSfiTOKICAL GRAMMAR. 259 

Mlow the order of Mature, beginnhig with the moat 
simple points, such as are mdst easily understood and 
necessary to be first discussed, and proceeding thence 
to those which are built upon the former, and which 
suppose them to be known. In short, the subject 
should be divided into those parts which grow out of 
each other, and into which they are most naturally 
and easily dissolved. 

The narration or explication is that part of an ora* 
tion which gives the true state of the question, unfolds 
every particular which belongs to it, and prepares 
the minds of the hearers to attend to the ailments 
which are to be produced in favour of the side we 
adopt. This part of the oration should be simple, 
nervous, and comprehensive, and the language plain, 
precise, and without ornament. 
' The argumentative part of the oration must be con- 
sidered as the strong bulwark of the rhetorical fortifi^ 
nation. The greatest care must be taken to select 
such arguments as are the best calculated to prove 
that what we advance is either true, right, or fit, or 
that it is profitable and good. Truth, duty, and in- 
terest, srt the three great subjects of discussion among 
mankind. But the arguments employed upon either 
;of them are generally distinct; and he who mixes 
them all under one topic, which he calls his argument, 
as is too frequently done in sermons, will render his 
reasoning indistinct and inelegant. 

With respect to the different degrees of sti^ength 
in arguments, the common as well as the most natural 
rule is to advance^ in the way of climay. Nor can I 
agree with Dr. Blair, or any other rhetorician, that 
nay state of the question will authorize an orator to 



960 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

begin with his strongest argument^ and end with his 
weakest. The last impression is generally what de- 
cides in popular addresses, and this should be nicely 
attended to. Besides, when once a point is proved, 
the multiplying of arguments only tends to weaken it ; 
for it ought to be observed, that a number of weak 
arguments seldom convince the mind so much as one 
strong one ; and, therefore, that we ought to be cau« 
tious how we lay too great stress on little things, as 
scarcely any thing so much implies a weakness of 
understanding. A great number of weak reasons 
ought therefore to be carefully avoided, lest we fall 
into the fault ridiculed by Pope in his Dunciad : 

Explain upon a thinj^ till all men doubt it, 
And write about it, goddess, and about it. 

When argument and reasoning have produced their 
full effect, Ihen, and not till then, the pathetic is ad- 
mitted with the greatest force and propriety. When 
the subject will admit of the pathetic (for all subjects 
do not,) a speaker should cautiously avoid giving his 
hearers warning that he intends to excite their pas- 
sions ; every previous preparation of this kind chills 
their sensibility. The orator should steal impercep- 
tibly upon the feelings of his hearers, and engage 
their passions before they perceive he is addressing 
them. 

To succeed in the pathetic, it is necessary to attend 
to the proper language of the passions. This, if we 
consult nature, we shall ever find is unaffected and 
simple. It may be animated with bold and strong 
figures, but it will have no ornament or finery. There 
is a material difference between painting to the imag^ 
ination and to the heart. The one may be done with 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 261 

deliberation and coolness ; the other must always be 
rapid and ardent. In the former, art and labour may 
be suffered to appear ; in the latter, no proper effect 
can be produced, unless it seem to be the work of 
nature only. Hence all digressions should be avoid- 
ed, which may interrupt or turn aside the swell of 
passion. Hence comparisons are always dangerous, 
and commonly quite improper in the midst of the 
pathetic. It is also to be observed, that emotions 
which are violent cannot be lasting. The pathetic, 
therefore, should not be prolonged and extended too 
much. A due regard should always be preserved to 
what the audience will bear ; for he that attempts to 
carry them farther in passion, than they will follow 
him^ annihilates his purpose ; by endeavouring to warm 
them in the extreme, he takes the surest method of 
completely freezing them. 

For the expression of these passions by pronuncia* 
tion or delivery, the student must be referred to a work, 
entitled Elements of Elocution, where it is hoped he 
will find a clearer description of the operation of the 
passions on the attitude, countenance, gesture, and 
tone of voice, whether in reading or speaking, than is 
to be met with in any other work on the subject. Be- 
sides, what has never before been attempted, he will 
there find a mechanical process of exciting the passions 
in the speaker, so necessary to his communicating them 
to his hearer, according to the rule of Horace : 



-Si via me flere, 



Dolendum est primum ipse tibi. 

Concerning the peroration, or conclusion of a dis- 
course, a few words will be suflEicient* Sometimes the 
whole pathetic part comes in most properly at the 



269 KHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

conclusion. Sometimes, when the discourse has beea 
altogether argumentative, it is proper to conclude with 
summing up the arguments, placing them in one point 
of view, and leaving the impression of them full and 
strong on the minds of the hearers. For the prineipai 
rule of a conclusion, and what nature obviously sug* 
gests, is to place that last, on which we choose that 
the strength of our cause should rest. 

In every kind of public speaking it is important to 
hit the precise time of concluding, so as to bring the 
discourse just to a point : neither ending abi»ptly, and 
unexpectedly, nor disappointing the expectation of 
the hearers, when they look for the discourse being 
finished. The close should always be concluded with 
dignity and spirit, that the minds of the hearers may 
be left warm, and that they may depart with a favour- 
able impression of the subject and of'the speaker. 

Having thus adjusted and prepared the several parts 
of a subject, the next object is the style in whidi we 
are to convey it to others. This has been so elaborately 
and accurately treated by Dr. Blair, that I shall take 
the same liberty which others have done, of extracting 
some of his thoughts on this subject, and refer the 
student in rhetoric to the Doctor^s excellent lectures^ 
for a more complete view of whatever is necessary to 
be known. 

Style — Perspicuity and Precision* 

Style is the peculiar manner in which a man ex- 
presses his conceptions by means of language. It is a 
picture of the ideas which rise in his mind, and of the 
order in which they are produced. 



BH£T01tICAL ORAltMAR. 863 

The qualities of a good 3t)^ may be ranked under 
two heads — perspicuity and ornament It will readily 
be admitted) that perspicuity ought to be essentially 
connected with every kind of writing. Without Ibb 
the brightest ornaments of style only glimmer through 
the dark ; and perplex^ instead of pleasing the reader- 
If we are forced to follow a writer with much eare^ t» 
pause« and to read over his sentences a second time^ in 
order to understand them fully, he will never please us 
long. Mankind are too indolent to be fond of so muck 
labour. Though they may pretend to admire the au» 
thor's depth) after having discovered his meaning, they 
will seldom be inclined to look a second time into his 
book. 

The study of perspicuity claims attention, first, to 
single words and phrases, and then to the construction 
of sentences. When considered with respect to words 
and phrases, it requires these three qualities — furitf, 
propriety, and precision. 

Purity and propriety of language are often used in* 
discriminately for each other ; and, indeed, they are 
very nearly allied. A distinction^ however, should be 
made between them. Purity consists in the use of 
snch words and such constrnctions as belong to the 
idiom of the language which we speak, in oppositiba 
to those words and phrases which are imported from 
other languages, or which are obsolete or new coined^ 
or employed without proper authority. Propriety is 
the choice of such words as the best and most estab- 
/Mshed usage has appropriated to those ideas which 
we intend to express by them : it implies their correct 
and judicious application, in opposition to vulgar or 
low expressions, and to words and phrases which would 



S64 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR 

be less sigaificant of the ideas that we intend to convey. 
Style may be pure, that is, it may be entirely English^ 
without Scotticisms or Gallicisms, or ungrammatical 
expressions of any kind, and may, notwithstanding, be 
deficient in propriety. The words may be ill selected ; 
not adapted to the subject, nor fully expressive of the 
author's meaning. He has taken them, indeed, from 
the general mass of English language ; but his choice 
has been made without happiness or skill. Style, how- 
ever, cannot be proper without being pure : it is the 
union of purity and propriety, which renders it grace- 
ful and perspicuous. 

The exact meaning of precision may be understood 
from the etymology of the word. It is derived from 
" J5r<»arfcr6," to cut off: it signifies retrenching all 
superfluities, and pruning the expression in such a 
manner as to exhibit neither more nor less than an exact 
copy of his idea who uses it. 

The words which are employed to express ideas may 
be faulty in three respects. They may either not ex- 
press that idea which the author means, but some other 
which only resembles or is related to it ; or they may 
express that idea, but not fully and completely ; or they 
may express it, together with something more than he 
designs. Precision is opposed to these three faults^ but 
particularly to the last ; into this, feeble writers are 
very apt to fall. They employ a multitude of words 
to make themselves understood, as they think, more 
distinctly ; and they only confound the reader. The 
image, as they place it before you, is always seen 
double ; iand no double image is distinct. When an 
author tells us of his hero's courage in the day of bat- 
tle^ the expression is precise, and we understand it 



RHETORICAL GRAHHA.R. 265 

fiiUy. But if^ from a desire of multiplying words^ he 
will praise hb courage andfartitudet at the moment he 
joins these words together^ our idea begins to waver. 
He intends to express one quality more strongly ; but 
he is^ in fact^ expressing two. Courage resists danger ; 
fortitude supports pain. The occasion of exerting each 
of these qualities is different ; and being induced to 
think of both together^ when only one of them should 
engage our attention^ our view is rendered unsteady^ 
and our conception of the object indistinct 

The great source of a loose style^ in opposition to 
precision^ is the inaccurate and unhappy use of those 
words^ called synonymous. Scarcely, in any language^ 
are there two words^ which express precisely the same 
idea ; and a person perfectly acquainted with the pro- 
priety of the language will always be able to observe 
something; by which they are distinguished. In our 
language^ very many instances might be given of a 
difference in meanings among words which are thought 
to be synonymous ; and as the subject is of importance, 
we shall point out a few' of them. 

Surprised, astonishedj amazed^ confounded. We 
are surprised with what is new or unexpected; we 
are astonished at what is vast or great ; we are amaz- 
ed with what we cannot comprehend ; we are con- 
foui^ed by what is shocking or terrible. 

Pride^ vanity. Pride makes us esteem ourselves ; 
vanity makes us desire the esteem of others. 

Haughtiness^ disdain. Haughtiness is founded on 
the high opinion we have of ourselves; disdain on 
the low opinion we entertain of others. 

To weary, to fatigue. The continuance of the same 
thing wearies us; labour fatigues us. A man is 
Weary with stapding, he is fatigued with walking. 



966 Rit£TOR!CAL' GRAltM4R. 

7\> ^hof^ to diteM. To abhor^ imports^ simply^ 
strong dislike ; to detest^ imports likewise stroag dis- 
apprabatioa. I abhor being in debt ; I detest treadi- 
erjr. 

To invent^ to discover. We invent things which 
are new ; we discover what has been hidden. Gal* 
iheo invented the telescope ; Harvey discovered the 
eirculation of the blood. 

EntirBj compkte. A thing is entire, when it wants 
none of its parts ; complete, when it wants none of 
the appendages which belong to it. A man may oc- 
cupy an entire house, though he has not one com- 
plete apartment. 

TranqtUUUy^ peace^ calm. Tranquillity signifies 
a situation free from trouble, considered in itaelf: 
peace, the same situation, with respect to any caines 
which might interrupt it; calm, with respect to a 
disturbed sitaation going before, or following it. A 
good man enjoys tranquillity in himself ; peace with 
others ; and calm after the storm. 

Enough^ sufficient. Enough relates to the quantity, 
which we wish to have of any thing. ' Sufficient re- 
lates to the use that is to be made of it. Hence, 
enough commonly signifies a greater quantity than 
sufficient does. The covetous man never has enough, 
though he has what is sufficient for nature. 

These are a few, among many instances of words, 
in our language, which, by careless writers, are apt 
to be mistaken for synonymous. The more the dis- 
tinction in the meaning of such words is weighed and 
attended to, the more accurately and forcibly shaU 
we speak and write. 



KHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 267 

Structure of Sentences. 

A proper construction of sentences is of such im- 
portance in every species of composition^ that we can- 
not be too strict or minute in oiir attention to it. 
iFor^ whatever be the subject^ if the sentences be con- 
structed in a clumsy, perplexed, or feeble manner/it 
is impossible that a work composed of such periods 
can be read with pleasure, or even with profit. But, 
by an attention to the rules which relate to this part 
of style, we acquire the habit of expressing ourselves 
with perspicuity and elegance ; and if a disorder hap- 
pen to arise in some of our sentences, we immediately 
discover where it lies, and are able to correct it. 

The properties most essential to a perfect sentence 
eeem to be the four following : — 1. Clearness and pre- 
cision.; 2. Unity ; 3. Strength ; 4. Harmony. 

Ambiguity is opposed to cl'^amess and precision, 
and arises from two causes; either from a wrong 
choice of words, or a wrong collocation of them. Of 
the choice of words as far as regards perspicuity, we 
have already spoken. Of the collocation of them we 
are now to treat. From the nature of our language, 
a leading rule in the arrangement of ou^ sentences is, 
that the words or members most nearly related should 
be placed^ in the sentence as near to each other as 
possible, so as to make their mutual relation clearly 
appear. This rule is too frequently neglected, even 
fay good writers. A few instances will show both its 
importance and its application. 

In the position of adverbs, which are used to quali- 
fy the signification of something which either precedes 

or follows them, a good deal of nicety is to be observ- 

34 



268 KRfiTORIGAL GRAMMAR. 

ed. ^^ By greatness/' says Mr. addisoni ^^ I do not 
only mean the bulk of any single object, but the large- 
ness of a whole view." Here the situation of the ad- 
verb onhj renders it a limitation of the following word^ 
mean. ^'1 do not only mean.'' — The question may 
then be asked, What does he more than mean? 
Had it been placed after huJkj still it would have been 
improperly situated ; for it might then be asked^ 
What is meant besides the hulk f Is it the colour, 
or any other property ? Its proper place is certainly 
after the word object : '' By greatness I do not mean 
the bulk of any single object only ;" for then when it 
is asked, What does he mean more than the balk of 
a single object ? the answer comes out precisely as 
the author intends, ^^ the largeness of a whole view." 
^^ Theism," says Lord Shaftesbury, ^^can only be op- 
posed to polytheism, or atheism." It may be asked 
then, Is theism capable of nothing else, except being 
opposed to polytheism or atheism ? This b what the 
words literally mean, through the improper colloca- 
tion of only. He ought to have said, '^ Theism can 
be opposed only to polytheism, or atheism." This 
kind of inaccuracies may have no material inconven- 
ience in conversation, because the tone and emphasis 
used in pronouncing them generally serve to show 
their reference, and to make the meaning perspicuous : 
but in writing, where a person speaks to the eye^ and 
not to the ear, he ought to be more accurate ; and 
should so connect those adverbs with the words which 
they qualify, that his meaning cannot be mistaken on 
the first inspection. 

When a circumstance is interposed in the middle 
of a sentence, it sometimes requires art to place it in 



EHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 269 

suob a manner as to divest it of all ambiguity. For 
instane^^ ^^Are these designs^'' says Lord Boling- 
broke^ Dissert, on Parties, Ded. ^^ which any man, 
whp is born a Briton, in any circumstances, in any 
situation, ought to be ashamed or afraid to avow ?'' 
Here we are in doubt, whether the words, ^Hn any 
circumstances^ in any situation,'^^ are connected with 
^^ a man bom a Briton, in any circumstances or situ- 
ation,'' or with that man's ^^ avowing his designs, in 
any circumstance^, or situation, into which he may 
be brou|;ht.'' If the latter, as seems most likely, 
was intended to be the meaning, the arrangement 
ought to have been in this form : ^^ Are these designs, 
which any man who is born a Briton ought to be 
ashamed or afraid, in any circun^stanses, in any situ- 
ation, to avow ?'' 

Still more attentive care is requisite to the proper 
disposition of the relative pronouns, whQ, which, tohat, 
whose ; and of all those particles which express the 
eonne?(ion of the parts of speech with one anqther. 
Sinee all reasoning depends upon this connexion, we 
cannot be too accurate with regard to it. A trifling 
errour may obscure the meaning of the whole sen- 
tence ; and even where the meaning is apparent, yet 
where these relative particles are misplaced, we al- 
ways find something awkward and disjointed in the 
structure of the period. The following passage in 
Bishop Sherlock's Sermons (vol. 2, serm. 15) will 
exemplify these observations : ^^ It is folly to pretend 
to arm ourselves against the accidents of life, by heap- 
ing up treasures, whieh nothing can protect us against, 
but the good providence of our Heavenly Father." 
Which always refers grammatically to the immediate- 



270 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ly preceding substantive^ which here is, ^^ treasures/^ 
ana this would convert the whole period into nonsense. 
The sentence should have been thus constructed: 
" It is folly to pretend, by heaping up treasures, to 
arm ourselves against the accidents of life, which 
nothing can protect us against but the good provi- 
dence of our Heavenly Father.'' 

We now proceed to the second quality of a well-ar- 
ranged sentence, which we termed its unity. This is 
an indispensable property. The very nature of a sen- 
tence implies one proposition to be expressed. It may 
consist, indeed, of parts ; but these parts must be so 
intimately knit together, as to make the impression 
upon the mind of one object, not of many. 

To preserve this unity, we must first observe, that, 
during the course of the sentence, the scene should be 
changed as little as possible. There is generally, in 
every sentence, some person or thing, which is the 
governing word. This should be continued so, if pos- 
sible, from the beginning to the end of it. Should a 
man express himself in this manner : ^^ After we came 
to anchor, they put me on shore, where I was saluted 
by all my friends, who received me with the greatest 
kindness.'' Here, though the objects are sufficiendy 
connected, yet by this mode of representation, by shift- 
ing so often the place and the person, we^ and lAey, 
and /, and whoj they appear in such a disunited view, 
that the sense of connexion is nearly lost The sen- 
tence is restored to its proper unity, by constructing 
it after the following manner : ^^ Having come to an 
anchor, I was put on shore, where I was saluted by all 
my friends, who received me with the greatest kind- 
ness." 



RHETORICAL QRAICMAR. S7L 

Another rule is^ never to crowd into one sentence 
things which have so little connexion^ that they might 
bear to be divided into two or more sentences. The 
transgression of this rule never fails to hurt and dis- 
please a reader. Its effect; indeed^ is so disgusting^ 
that; of the two; it is the safest extreme^ to err rather 
by too many short sentences^ than by one that is over- 
loaded and confused. The following sentence^ from a 
translation of Plutarch; will justify this opinion: 
** Their march/' says the author^ speaking of the 
Greeks under Alexander^ ^^ was through an unculti- 
vated country; whose savage inhabitants fared hardlv; 
having no other riches than a breed of lean sheep; 
whose flesh was rank and unsavoury; by reason of 
their continual feeding upon sea-fish." Here the 
scene is repeatedly changed. The march of the 
Greeks; the description of the inhabitants through 
whose country they passed; the account of their sheep 
and the reason of their sheep being disagreeable food; 
make a jumble of objects; slightly related to each 
other; which the reader cannot; without considerable 
difficulty; comprehend under one view. 

Another rule for preserving the unity of sentences 
is; to keep clear of all parentheses in the middle of 
them. These may; on some occasions; have a spirited 
appearance; as prompted by a certain vivacity of 
thought; which can glance happily aside; as it is go- 
ing along. But; in general; their effect is extremely 
bad ; being a perplexed method of disposing of some 
thought; which a writer has not art enough to mtro- 
duce in its proper place. It is needless to produce 
any instances; since they occur so frequently aiaong 
incorrect writers. 



97a BBBTORIGAL QRAMItAE. 

We sliall add only one rule more for the unity of a 
sentence ; which is, to bring it always to a full and 
perfect close. It need hardly be observed^ that a» 
unfinished sentence is no sentence at aU^ with respect 
to any of the rules of grammar. But sentences oftea 
occur^ which are more than finished. When we have 
arrived at what we expected td be the conclusioii; 
when we have come to the word on which the mind ia 
naturally led to rest> by what went before ; unexpect- 
edly some circumstance arises^ which ought to have 
been left out^ or to have been disposed of after aa*- 
other manner. Thus for^ instance^ in the following 
sentence^ from Sir William Temple^ the adjection to 
the sentence is entirely foreign to it. Speaking of 
Burnet's Theory of the Earthy and Fontenelle's Plu* 
rality of Worids : ^^ The first,'' says he, ^< could not 
end his learned treatise without a panegyric of mod* 
em learning, in comparibson of the ancient ; and the 
other falls so grossly into the censure of the old poe- 
try, and preference of the new, that I could not read 
either of these strains without some indigpaation $ 
which no quality among men is so apt to raise in me 
as self sufficiency." The word ^^ indignation" ought 
to have concluded the sentence ; for what follows is 
altogether new, and is added after the proper close. 

Strength of Sentences. 

We proceed now to the third quality of a correct 
sentence, which we called strength. By this is meant, 
such a disposition of the several words and members 
as shall exhibit the sense to the best advantage ; as 
shall render the impression which the period is in- 



RHETOMGAL GRAMMAR. 273 

tended to make most full and complete; and give 
every word and every member its due weight and 
importance. To the production of this effect^ perspi- 
cuity and unity are^ no doubt^ absolutely necessary ; 
but they are not of themselves sufficient. For a sen- 
tence may be obviously clear ; it may also be suffi- 
ciently compact, or have the required unity ; and yet^ 
by some unfavourable circumstance in the structure^ 
it may be deficient in that strength or liveliness of 
impression which a more happy collocation would 
have produced. 

The first rule that we shall give for promoting the 
strength of a sentence is^ to take from it all redun- 
dant words. Whatever can be easily supplied in the 
mind is better omitted in the expression ; thus^ ^^ Con- 
tent with deserving a triumph, he refused the honour 
of it^^^ is better than to say^ ^^ Being content with de- 
serving a triumph^ he refused the honour of it'^ It 
is certainly^ therefore^ one of the most useful exercis- 
es of correction^ on a view of what we have written 
or composed^ to contract that roundabout mode of ex- 
pressioD^ and to cut off those useless excrescences 
which are usually found in a first draught. But we 
must be careful not to run into the opposite extreme^ 
of pruning so closely as to give a hardness and dry- 
ness to the style. Some leaves must be left to shelter 
and adorn the fruit. 

As sentences should be divested of superfluous words^ 
so also they should appeair without superfluous mem- 
bers. In opposition to this, is the fault we so fre- 
quently meet with, of the last member of a period be- 
ing no other than the repetition of the former, in a 
different dress. For example ; speaking of beauty, 



274 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR^ 

'^ The very first dbcovery of it,'^ says Mr. Addison^ 
^^ strikes the mind with inward joy^ and spreads de- 
light through all its faculties/' In this instance^ 
scarcely any thing is added by the second member of 
the sentence to what was already expressed in the 
first : and though the elegant style of Mr. Addison 
may palliate such neglig^nce^ yet it is generally true^ 
that language; divested of this prolixity^ becomes 
more strong, as well as more beautiful. 

The second direction we shall give for promoting 
the strength of a sentence is, to pay a particular at* 
tention to the use of copulatives, relatives, and all 
the particles employed for transition and connexion. 
Some observations on this subject, which appear to be 
worthy of particular remembrance, shall here be no- 
ticed. 

What is termed splitting of particles, or separating 
a preposition from the noun which it governs^ is ever 
to be avoided : as if we should say, ^^ Though virtue 
borrows no assistance from, yet it may often be accom- 
panied by, the advantages of fortune.'^ In such in- 
stances, a degree of dissatisfaction arises, from the 
violent separation of two things which, from their 
nature, ought to be intimately united. . 

The simplicity of style is much injured by the un- 
necessary multiplication of relative and demonstra- 
tive particles : Thus if a writer should say, ^' There 
is nothing which disgusts me sooner than the empty 
pomp of language ;" he would express himself less 
simply than if he had said, /^Nothing disgusts me 
sooner than the empty pomp of language.'^ The for- 
mer mode of expression, in the introduction of a sub- 
ject, or in laying down a proposition to which par- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 275 

ticular attention is demanded^ is exceedingly proper ; 
but in the ordinary current of discourse^ the latter 
is to be preferred. 

^ With regard to the omission or insertion of the 
relative^ we shall only observe^ that in conversation 
and epistolary writings it may be often omitted with 
propriety ; but in compositions of a serious or digni- 
fied kind it should constantly be inserted. 

On the copulative particle and^ which occurs so 
often in all kinds of composition, several observations 
are to be made. It is evident that the unnecessary 
repetition of it enfeebles style. By omitting it en- 
tirely we often mark a closer connexion^ a quicker 
succession of objects^ than when it is inserted between 
them. , ^^ Fiem, vidi^ vici ;" — ^^ I came^ I saw, I con- 
quered ;'' expresses with more spirit the rapidity of 
conquest, than if connecting particles had been used. 
When, however, we desire to prevent a quick transi- 
tion from one object to another, and when we are 
enumerating objects which we wish to appear as dis- 
tinct from each other as possible, copulatives may be 
multiplied with peculiar advantage. Thus lord Bo- 
lingbroke says, with elegance and propriety, ^^ Such 
a man might fall a victim to power ; but truth, and 
reason, and liberty, would fall with him.'' 

A third rule for promoting the strength of a sen- 
tence is, to dispose of the principal word, or words, 
in that place of the sentence where they will make 
the most striking impression.^ Perspicuity ought first 
to be studied ; and tiie nature of our language allows 
no extensive liberty in the choice of collocation. In 
general, the important words are placed in the begin- 
ning of the sentence. Thus Mr. Addison: ^^The 

35 



276 RHKTOftlCAL aBAllHAK* 

pleasures of the uaagiaatieii, taken in l&eiap Itall ex* 
tenl^ are not so gross as tkose of sense, nor so rdkicd 
as those of the understanding." This order seems to 
he the most plain and natural. Sometimes^ hovreyer^ 
when we propose giving we^ht to a sentenee, it io 
pvoper to suspend the meaning fsr a while^ and tiMi 
to hring it out full at the close : <^ Thus^" siays Mr. 
Pope^ ^on whatever si^e we contemplate Horaetv 
what principally strikes ns is his wondevfol inventiom.'^ 
A ibttrth role for the strength of sentenees m, tm 
make the memheva of them go on rising in th^f im- 
portance above oQe another. This kind of tiimngn 
ment is called a dsmax^ and is ever regarded as a 
heauty in composition. Why it pleasea is saficienllyE 
evident In all things^ we naturally love to advanee 
to what is more and more beautifii)^ rather thmi to 
foHow the retrograde order. | Baving viewed qomo 
eonsidepable (Aject^ we cannot^ without pai% be put 
led back to attend to an inflsriop rirrumntnmre 
^ Cavenium e5^>" says Qimntiliaa^ <^ n^ deopescml ora^ 
tioy et JbrHari sulffungatur aUqmd tn/Ermm.'^ ^^ We 
must take care that our compositioa shall not &}1 ol^ 
and that a weaker expression shall not fidHow one of 
greater sti*ength." Whea a sentence consists of two 
members, the longest should, in general, be the eea* 
eluding one. H^nce the prommciation is nendexed 
moire easy ; and the shortest member off the petied 
being placed first, we eanry it mwe readfly in our 
memory as we proceed to the second^ and; see the cea.- 
noxion qt the two more clearly4 Thus, to aaf^ 
^^When oui? passions have fiiraaken us^ we iattor 
ourselvea with the belief that we have forsalDen dma^'^ 
in botii more gMcefiil aad mose aemaieoous than to 



HHSTOBICAL QBJliHHAX« 277 

beghi wit)i the longest part of the proposition : ^^ We 
jBatter ourselves with the belief^ dlat we have forsakem 
^ur passions, when they have forsaken us." 

A fifth rale for constructing sentences with proper 
stMnglh is^ to avoid concluding them with an adverh^ 
a preposition^ or any insignificant word. By sudk 
conclusions^ style is dways weakened and degraded^ 
Sometimes^ indeed^ where the stress and signiflcancy 
rest chiefly upon words of this kind^ thy may^ with pro- 
priety^ have the principal place allotted them. No 
faulty for example, can be found with this sentence of 
Bolingbroke : ^^ In their prosperity, my friends shall 
never hear of me : in their adversity, always ;" where 
never and ahoays^ being empbatical words, are so 
placed, as to make a strong impression. But when those 
inferior parts of speech are introduced as circumstan- 
ces or as qualifications of more important words, they 
should invariably be disposed of in the least conspicu- 
ous parts at the period. 

We should always avoid with care the concluding 
with any 6f Ifiose particles which distinguish the cases 
4/t noHns — of, to, from, unihy by* Thus it is muek 
better to say, '^ Avarice is a crime of which wise men 
are often guilty,'^ than to say, ^^ Avarice is a crime 
which wise men are often guilty of.^^ This kind of 
phraseology all correct writers endeavour sedulously 
to avoid. 

Verbs used in a compound sense, with some of 
these prepositions, are likewise ungraceful conclusions 
«f a period ; such as, bring abaut^ hy hold of, come 
over tOj clear up^ and inany others (^ the same kind $ 
flistead of which, if a simple verb cu be employed^ 
4he sentence is always temuiatod with move stren^^ 



278 UHBTORICAL GRAMMAR. 

Even the pronoun it^ especially when joined with 
some of the prepositions, as, loith iU ift it, to it, cannot, 
without a violation of grace, he the conclusion of a 
sentence. Any phrase which expresses a circum- 
stance only, cannot conclude a sentence without great 
imperfection, and inelegance. Circumstances are^ 
indeed, like unshapely stones in a building, which try 
the skill of an artist, where to place them with the 
least offence. We should carefully avoid crowding 
too many of them together, but rather intersperse 
them in different parts of the sentence, joined with 
the principal words on which they depend. Thus, 
for instance, when Dean Swift says, ^^What I had 
the honour of mentioning to your lordship, sometime 
ago, in conversation, was not a new thought" — (Let- 
ter to the Earl of Oxford.) These two circumstances, 
sometime ago, and in conversation^ which are here 
joined, would have been better separated thus : 
^^ What I had the honour, sometime ago, of mention- 
ing to your lordship in conversation." 

The last rule which we shall mention concerning 
the strength of a sentence is, that in the members of 
it, where two things are compared or contrasted to 
one another, where either a resemblance or an oppo- 
sition is designed to be expressed, some resemblance 
in the language and construction ought to be observed. 
The following passage, from Pope^s preface to his 
Homer, beautifully exemplifies the rule we are now 
giving. " Homer was the greater genius ; Vir^l the 
better artist : in the one, we admire the man ; ia the 
other, the work. Homer hurries us with a command- 
ing impetuosity; Virgil leads us with an attractive 
majesty. Homer scatters with a generous profusion ; 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 279 

Virgil bestows with a careless magnificence* Horner^ 
like the Nile^ pours out his riches with a sudden over- 
flow ; Virgil; like a river in its banks^ with a constant 
stream. And when we look upon their machines^ 
Homer seems like his own Jupiter in his terror^ shak- 
ing Olympus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the 
heavens. Virgil, like the same power, in his benevo- 
lence, counselling with the gods, laying plans for em- 
pires, and ordering his whole creation.'' Periods of 
this kind, when introduced with propriety, and not too 
frequently repeated, have a sensible and attractive 
beauty : but if such a construction be aimed at in all 
our sentences, it 1>etrays into a disagreeable uniformi- 
ty, and produces a regular jingle in the period, which 
tires the ear, and plainly discovers affectation. 

Harmony of Sentences. 

Having treated of sentences, with regard to their 
meaning, under the heads of perspicuity, unity, and 
strength, we will now consider them with respect to 
their sound, their harmony, or agreeableness to the 

ear. 

In the harmony of periods, two things are to be 
considered : First, agreeable sound, or modulation ia 
general, without any particular expression : Next, the 
sound so ordered, as to become expressive of tbe 
sense. The first is the more common ; the second 
the superior beauty. 

The beauty of musieal construction, it is evideit, 
will depend upon the choice of words, and the ar« 
rangement of them. Those words are most pleasing 
to the ear which are composed of smooth and liquid 



880 BHETOfttCAL GftAMKAB, 

sounds^ where there is a proper intenaixtiire of vonvek 
and conaonants^ without too many harsh consonaiito^ 
rubbing against each other^ or too many opM vowdi 
in succession^ to produce a hiatus^ or unpleasing apw» 
ture of the mouth. Long words are generally more 
pleasing to the ear than monosyllables ; and those are 
the most musical which are not wholly composed d 
long or short syllables^ but of an intermixture of 
them ; such as^ deUghtj amt$se^ velddtyf eekrity, Amu ^ 
iifnly impetuosity* If the words^ however^ which com- 
pose a sentence^ be ever so well chosen and harmo- 
nious; yet, if they be unskilfully arranged, its mosie 
is entirely lost As an instance of a musical sentence 
we may take the following from Milton, in his Treatise 
on Education. ^^ We shall conduct you to a hill-side, 
laborious, indeed, at the first ascent ; but else so smooth^ 
so green, so full of goodly prospects and melodious 
sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not 
more charming." Every thing in this sentence con- 
spires to render it harmonious. The words are weD 
chosen; laborious^ smooth^ green, goodly, mehdions, 
chirming; and besides, they are so happily arranged^ 
that no alteration could be made, without injuring 
(he melody. 

There are two things on which the music of a 
sentence principally depends : these are, the proper 
dBtribution of the several members of it, and the close 
4yr cadence of the whole. 

First, we observe, that the distribution of the seT'^ 
eral members should be carefully attended to. What- 
ewr is easy and pleasing to the orgins of speech 
always sounds grateful to the ear. While a peri^ 
is going on, the termination of each of its membert 



RHSTOUCJJL omAMCAE. 381 

teflw a paaae m tke pMwmaatieii ; and ti^eae pmscs 
ahotdd be so distributed aa to bear a eertam aualeal 
propartien to eaoh oAer. This will be best iUustrated 
by examplea*' Tke fiUlowuig fiassage is taken firoM 
Arebbitkop TiHotoea. ^^ Tikis diseourse^ eoac^miiig 
Ike easniess of God^s oonmands^ does, all aloiig> sup- 
pose and acknowledge the difficulties of the fifst 
entraace upon a religious course ; except only in those 
pwsMiSy who have had the happiness to be trained up 
to reUgion by the easy and insensible degrees of a 
pious and virtuous education.'^ This senteoce is far 
from being harmonious ; owii^ chiefly to this^ that there 
is^ properly^ no more than one pause in it^ iaUing be* 
tween die two members into whi^h it is divided ; each 
of which is so long as to require a considerable stretch 
of the breath in pronouncing . it^ Let us observe 
now^ on the contrary^ the grace of the follomng pas* 
sage^ from Sir William Temple^ in which he ^eaks 
sarcastically of man. ^^But^ Crod be thanked^ his 
pride is greater than his ignorance; and what he 
wants in knowledge^ he supplies by sufficiency^ 
When he has looked about him^ as far as he can^ he 
concludes there is no more to be seen ; when he is at 
the end of his line^ he is at the bottom of the ocean ; 
idien he has shot his best^ he is sure none ever did, or 
ever can^ shoot better^ or beyond it^ His own reasoa 
he holds to be the certain measure of truth ; and hia 
own knowledge of what is possible in nature*'^ Here 

* There U not perliipt so inTtterate, ot so iU-grounded an error, m that 
which prevaiU among all rhetoricians, ancient and modem, of supposinr- 
that a long sentence neoeasarily requires a long efTasion of breath ana 
occasions great difficulty of pronunciation. Those who have perused 
EiemenU of Elocution, page ST, and the former part of this treatise, will, 
I flatter myself, see the foUy of this notion. Those, above aU others^ 
ought not to adopt it, who contend, that every line of verse, whether the 
sense require it or not, ought to be marked with a pause of suspension* 
See Elemcnit of Elomtiouj page 379. 



L. * 



282 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

every thing is^ at the same time^ easy to the breathy and 
grateful to the ear. We must^ however^ observe, that 
if composition abounds with sentences which have too 
many rests, and these placed at intervals too apparent* 
ly measured and regular, it is apt to savour of affectation. 

The next thing which demands our attention is the 
close or cadence of the whole sentence. The only im- 
portant rule which can here be given is, that when we 
aim at dignity or elevation, the sound should increase 
to the last ; the longest members of the period, and 
the fullest and most sonorous words, should be employ- 
ed in the conclusion. As an instance of this, the fol- 
lowing sentence of Mr. Addison may be given. ^^ It 
fills the mind,'' speaking of sight, " with the largest 
variety of ideas; converses with its object at the 
greatest distance ; and continues the longest in action 
without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoy- 
ments." Here every reader must be sensible of a 
beauty, both in the just division of the members and 
pauses, and the manner in which the sentence is 
rounded and brought to a full and harmonious termin- 
ation. 

It may be remarked, that little words, in the con- 
clusion of a sentence, are as injurious to melody, as 
they are inconsistent with strength of expression. 
A musical close in our language seems, in general, 
to require either the last syllable, or the last but one, 
to be a long syllable. Words which consist chiefly 
of short syllables, as contrary, particular, retrospectj 
seldom terminate a sentence harmoniously, unless a 
run of long syllables^ before, has rendered them pleas- 
ing to the ear. 



RHE TORICAL GRAMMAR. 283 

Sentences^ however, which are so constructed as 
to make the sound always swell and grow towards the 
end, and to rest either on a long or a penult long syl- 
lable, give a discourse the tone of declamation. If 
melody be not varied, the ear soon becomes acquaint- 
ed and cloyed with it. Sentences constructed in the 
same manner, with the pauses at equal intervals^ 
should never succeed each other. Short sentences 
must be blended with long and swelling ones, to rjender 
discourse sprightly as well as magnificent. 

We now proceed to treat of a higher species of 
harmony — the sound adapted to the sense. Of this we 

may remark two degrees : First, the current of sound 
suited to the tenor of a discourse : Next, a peculiar 
resemblance effected between some object and the 
sounds that are employed in. describing it. 

Sounds have, in many respects, an intimate cor- 
respondence with our ideas ; partly natural, partly 
produced by artificial associations. Hence, any one 
modulation of sound continued, sUimps on our style a 
certain character and expression. Sentences con- 
structed with the Ciceronian fulness and swell excite 
an idea of what is important, magnificent, and sedate. 
They suit, however, no violent passion, no eager rea- 
soning, no familiar address. These require measures 
brisker, easier and more concise. It were as ridicu- 
lous to write a familiar epistle and a funeral oration 
in a style of the same cadence, as to set the words of 
a tender love-song to the tune of a warlike march. 

Besides that general correspondence which the cur- 
rent of sound has with the current of thought, a more 
particular expression may be attempted, of certain 
objects, by resembling sounds. In poetry this resem- 

36 



284 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

blance is chiefly to be looked for. It obtains some- 
times^ indeed^ in prose composition ; but there in a 
more faint and inferior degree. 

The sounds of words may be employed to describe 
chiefly three classes of objects; first, other sounds; 
secondly^ motion ; and thirdly, the emotions and pas- 
sions of the mind. 

In most languages it will be found, that the names 
of many particular sounds are so formed as to bear 
some resemblance to the sound which they signify; 
as with us, the whistling of winds, the buzz and hum 
of insects, the hiss of serpents, and the crash of falling 
timber ; and many other instances, where the word 
has been plainly constructed from the sound it repre- 
sents.* A remarkable example of this beauty wc 
shall produce from Milton, taken from two passages 
in his Paradise Lost, describing the sound made in 
the one, by the opening of the gates of hell ; in the 
other, by the opening of those of heaven. The con- 
trast between the two exhibits to great advantage 
the art of the poet The first is the opening of heffs 
gates : 



On a sudden, open fly, 

, Wit)i impetuous recoil, and jarring" sound, 
Th' infernal doors ; and on their hinges grate 
Harsh thunder. 

Observe the smoothness of the other : 

Heaven opened wide 



Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound ! 
On golden hinges turning. 

The second class of objects, which the sound of 
words is frequently employed to imitate, is motion : 
as it is swift or slow, violent or gentle, uniform or in- 

* For a fuller explanation of this figure in composition, see page ^* 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 285 

terrupted^ easy or accompanied with effort Between 
sound and motion there is no natural affinity ; yet 
in the imagination there is a strong one^ as is evi- 
dent from the connexion between music and dancing. 
The poet can^ consequently^ give us a lively idea of 
the kind of motion he would describe, by the help of 
sound, which corresponds in our imagination, with 
that motion. Long syllables naturally excite the idea 
of slow motion ; as in this line of Pope : 

up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone. 

A succession of short syllables gives the impression 
of quick motion : as, in Milton, — ^ 

While on the tawny sands and shelves 
Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 

The works of Homer and Virgil abound with in- 
stances of this beauty, which are so often quoted, 
and -so well known, that it is unnecessary to produce 
them. 

The third set of objects, which we mentioned the 
sound of words as capable of representing, consists of 
the emotions and passions of the mind. Between 
sense and sound there appears, at first view, to be 
no natural resemblance. But if the arrangement of 
syllables, by the sound alone, calls forth one set of 
ideas more readily than another, and disposes the 
mind for entering into that affection which the poet 
intends to raise, such arrangement may, with pro- 
priety, be said to resemble the sense, or be similar 
and correspondent to it. Thus when pleasure, joy, 
and agreeable objects, are described by one who sen- 
sibly feels his subject, the language naturally runs in- 
to smooth, liquid, ahd flowing numbers : 



1 



286 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

joy, l!iou u-elcome stranger ! twice three years, 

1 have not felt thy vital beams ; but now 

It warms my leins and plays around my heart : 

A fiery instinct lifts mc from the ground, 

And I could mount — — ^— Young. 

Brisk and lively sensations e^^cite quicker and more 

animated numbers : 

* 

The offer likes not, and the nimble gunner 

With linstock now the devUish cannon touches, 

And down goes all before him. Shaktpem. 

Melancholy and gloomy subjects are naturally con- 
nected with slow measures and long words : 

In these deep solitudes and awful cells, 

Where heav*nly pensive contemplation dwells. P^- 

Abundant instances of this kind will be suggested 
by a moderate acquaintance with the good poetS; 
either ancient or modern. 



General Characters of Style. 

Diffuse^ Concise^ Feebky Nervous^ Dry^ Plain^ Neat^ 

Elegant^ Flowery. 

That different subjects ought to be treated in dif- 
ferent kinds of style^ is a position so self-evident^ 
that it requires not illustration. Every one is conviBC- 
ed^ that treatises of philosophy should not be com- 
posed in the same style with orations. It is equally 
apparent, that different parts of the same composition 
require a variation in the style and manner. Yet 
amidst this variety, we still expect to find, in the 
composition of any one man, some degree of uniformi- 
ty or consistency with himself, in manner ; we expect 
to find some prevailing character of style impressed 
on all his writings, which shall be suited to, and shall 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 287 

distingnish^ his particular genius and turn of mind. 
The orations in Livy diifer considerably in style^ as 
th^y ought to do^ from the rest of his history. The 
same thing may be observed in those of Tacitus. Yet 
in the orations of both these elegant historians^ the 
distinguishing manner of each may be clearly traced ; 
the splendid fulness of the one^ and the sententious 
brevity of the other. Wherever there is real or na- 
tive genius^ it prompts a disposition to one kind of 
style rather than to another. Where this is wanting, 
where there is no marked nor peculiar character 
which appears in the compositions of an author, we 
are apt to conclude, and not without cause, that he is 
a vulgar and trivial author, who writes from imitation, 
and not from the impulse of original genius. 

One of the. first and most obvious distinctions of the 
different sorts of style arises from an author's expand- 
ing his thoughts more or less. This distinction con- 
stitutes what are termed the diffuse and concise styles. 
A concise writer compresses his ideas into the fewest 
words ; he employs none but the most expressive ; he 
lops off aJl those which are not a material addition to 
the sense. Whatever ornament he admits is adopted 
for the sake of force, rather than of grace. The 
same thought is never repeated. The utmost precis- 
ion is studied in his sentences ; and they are gene- 
rally designed to suggest more to the reader's imagin- 
ation than they immediately express. 

A diffuse writer unfolds his idea fully. He holds 
it out in a variety of lights, and assists the reader, 
as much as possible, in comprehending it completely. 

He is not very anxious to express it at first in its 
full strength, because he intends repeating the im- 



288 RH£TORICAt GBAMM AR. 

pression ; and what he wants in strength he endear- 
ours to supply by copiousness. His periods naturally 
flow into some length ; and having room for ornament 
of every kind^ he gives it free admittance. 

Each of these styles has its peculiar advantages^ and 
each becomes faulty when carried to the extreme. Of 
conciseness carried as far as propriety will alloW; 
perhaps in some cases farther^ Tacitus the historian^ 
and Montesquieu, in ^^ V Esprit de Loix^'' are remark- 
able examples. Of a beautiful and magnificent dif- 
fuseness^ Cicero is^ undoubtedly^ the noblest instance 
which can be given. Addison also^ and Sir William 
Temple^ may be ranked in some degree under the 
same class. 

To determine when to adopt the concise^ and when 
the diffuse manner^ we must be guided by the nature 
of the composition. Discourses which are to be spok* 
en require a more diffuse style than books which are to 
be read. In written compositions^ a proper degree of 
conciseness has great advantages. It is more lively; 
keeps up attention ; makes a stronger impression on 
the mind ; and gratifies the reader by supplying more 
exercise to his conception. Description^ when w^ 
wish to have it vivid and animated^ should be m & 
concise strain. Any redundant words or circumstan- 
ces encumber the fancy, and render the object we pi*' 
sent to it confused and indistinct. The strength and 
vivacity of description^ whether in prose or poetry? 
depend much more upon the happy choice of one or 
two important circumstances than upon the multipw' 
cation of them. When we desire to strike the fancy; • 
or to move the hearty we should be concise ; when to 
inform the understandings which is more deliberate ii» 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 289 

its motions^ and wants the assistance of a guide^ it 
is better to be full. Historical narration may be 
beautiful; either in a concise or diffuse manner^ ac- 
cording to the author's genius. Livy and Herodotus 
are diffuse ; Thucydides and Sallust are concise ; yet 
they are all agreeable. 

The nervous and the feeble are generally consider- 
ed as characters of style^ of the same import with the 
concise and the diffuse. They do, indeed, very fre- 
quently coincide ; yet this does not always hold ; 
since there are instances of writers, who, in the midst 
of a full and ample style, have maintained a consider- 
able degree of strength. Livy is an instance of the 
truth of this observation. The foundation, indeed, 
of a nervous or weak style is laid in an author's man- 
ner of thinking : If he conceives an object forcibly, he 
will express it with strength ; but if he has an indis- 
tinct view of his subject, this will clearly appear in 
his style. Unmeaning words and loose epithets will 
escape him ; his expressions will be vague and gene- 
ral ; his arrangement indistinct and weak ; and our 
conception of his meaning will be faint and confused. 
But a nervous writer, be his style concise or extend- 
ed, gives us always a strong idea of his meaning ; his 
mind being full of his subject, his words are, conse- 
quently, all expressive ; every phrase, and every fig- 
ure which he uses, renders the picture which he would 
set before us more striking and complete. 

It must, however, be observed that too great a study 
of strength, to the neglect of the other qualities of style, 
is apt to betray writers into a harsh manner. Harsh- 
ness proceeds from uncommon words, from forced in- 
versions in the construction of a sentence, and too 



290 HUETORICAL GBAMMAR. 

great neglect of smoothness and ease. This is im- 
puted as a fault to some of our earliest classics in the 
English language ; such as Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir 
Francis Bacon^ Hooker^ Harrington^ Cudworth, and 
other writers of considerable reputation in the days 
of Q,ueen Elizabeth^ James I. and Charles I. These 
writers had nerve and strength in a considerable de- 
gree ; and are to this day distinguished by that quali- 
ty in style. But the language, in their hands, was 
very different from what it is at present, and was, in- 
deed, entirely formed upon the idiom and construc- 
tion of the Latin, in the arrangement of senten* 
ces. The present form which the language has as- 
sumed, has, in some degree, sacrificed the study of 
strength to that of ease and perspicuity. Our a^ 
rangement has become less forcible, perhaps, hot 
more plain and natural : and this is now considered 
as the genius of our tongue. 

Hitherto, style has been considered under those 
characters, which regard its expressiveness of an 
author's meaning : We will now consider it in another 
view, with respect to the degree of ornament employ- 
ed to embellish it. Here the style of different authors 
seems to rise in the following gradation : A dry, a 
plain, a neat, an elegant, a flowery manner. Of these 
we will treat briefly, in the order in which they stand. 
A dry manner excludes every kind of omatnent 
Satisfied with being understood, it aims not to please, 
in the least degree, either the fancy or the car. 
This is tolerable only in pure didactic writing ; ^^ 
even there to make us bear it, great solidity of ffl*^' 
ter is necessary, and entire perspicuity of language' 
* A plain style advances one degree above a dry one. 



RHETOBICAL GRAM^MAft. 391 

A writer of this character employs very little or- 
nament of any kind^ and rests almost entirely upon his 
sense. But^ though he does not engage us by the arts 
of composition^ he avoids disgusting us like a dry and 
harsh writer. Besides perspicuity^ he observes pro- 
priety, purity^ and precision in his language ; which 
form no inconsiderable degree of beauty. Liveliness 
and force are also compatible with a plain style ; and^ 
consequently^ such an author^ if his sentiments be 
good, may be sufficiently agreeable. The difference 
between a dry and a plain writer is, that the former 
is incapable of ornament, — the latter goes not in pur- 
suit of it. Of those who have employed the plain 
style, Dean Swift is an eminent example. 

A neat style is next in order ; and here we are ad- 
vanced into the region of ornament ; but that ornament 
is not of the most sparkling kind. A writer of this 
character shows that he does not despise the beauty 
of language, by his attention to the choice of his 
words, and to their graceful collocation. His senten- 
ces are always free from the incumbrance of super- 
fluous words ; are of a moderate length ; rather in- 
clining to brevity than a swelling structure ; and clos- 
ing with propriety. There is variety in his cadence ; 
but no appearance of studied harmony. His figures, 
if any, are short and accurate, rather than bold and 
glowing. Such a style may be attained by a writer 
whose powers of fancy or geniu^ are not extensive, 
by industry and attention. This sort of style is not 
unsuitable to any subject whatever. A familiar epis- 
tle, or a law paper, on the driest subject, may be com- 
posed with neatness ; and a sermon, or a philosophical 
treatise, in a neat style, will be read with satisfaction. 

37 



292 llAETORlCAL GRAKMAB. 

Ab elegant atyle admits a higher degree af oraa- 
ment than a neat one ; and possesses all the virtues 
of ornament^ without any of its excesses or defects^ 
Complete eleganee implies great perspicuity and pre- 
' priety ; purity in the choice of words, and carefulness 
and skill in their harmonious and happy arrangement* 
It implies farther^ — the beauty of imagination spread 
over style, as far as the subject allows it, — and all the 
illustration which figurative language affords, when 
properly employed. An elegant writer, in shorty is 
one who delights the fancy and the ear, while be in- 
forms the understanding ; and who clothes his ideas 
with all the beauty of expression, but does not over- 
load them with any of its misplaced finery. 

Styk-^Simple ; Affected ; Vehement. Directions far 

forming a proper Style. 

Simplicity, applied to writing, is a term very com- 
monly used, but, like many other critical terms, it is 
often used vaguely, and without precision. The dif- 
ferent meanings given to the word simplicity have 
been the chief cause of this inaccuracy.^ It will not, 
therefore, be improper to make a distinction between 
them, and show in what sense simplicity is a proper 
attribute of style. There are four different accepta- 
tions in which this term is taken. 

The first is simplicity of composition, which is op- 
posed to too great •a variety of parts. This is the 
simplicity of plan in a tragedy, as distinguished from 
double plots and crowded incidents ; the simplicity of 
the Iliad, in opposition to the digressions of Lucan ; 
the simplicity of Grecian architecture, in opposition 
to the irregularity of the Gothic — Simplicity, in this 
^ense, is the same as unity. 



BfifiTOBIGAL GHAHHAB. ^3 

The second sense^ is simplicity of thought in oppo- 
sition to refinement. Simple thoughts are those which 
flow naturally^ which are easily sugg-ested by the sub- 
ject or occa9ion^ and which^ when once suggested, are 
universally understood. Refineinent in writing means 
a less obvious and natural turn of thought, whicb^ 
when carried too far, approaches to intricacy, and is 
unpleastng, by the appearance of being far sought 
Thtis we should say, that Mr. Parnell is a poet of 
much greater simplicity, in his turn of thought, than 
Mr. Cowley, 

A third sense of simplicity — that in which it regurds 
style, is opposed to too much ornament or pomp of 
language. Thus we say, Mr. Locke is a simple, Mr. 
Hervey a florid, writer. 

There is a fourth sense of simplicity, which also 
respects style : but it regards not so much the degree 
of ornament employed as the easy and natural manner 
io which language is expressive of our thoughts. In 
this sense, simplicity is compatible with the highest 
ornament Homer, for example, has this simplicity 
in the greatest perfection ; and yet no writer posses- 
ses more ornament and beauty. This simplicity, which 
is now the object of our consideration, stands opposed 
not to ornament, but to affectation of orjiament ; and is 
9L superior excellency in composition. 

A writer who has attained simplicity has no marks 
of art in his expression ; it appears the very language 
of nature. We see not the writer and his labour, but 
the man in his own natural character. H£ may pos- 
sess richness of expression ; he may be full of figures 
and of fancy ; but these flow from him without diffi- 
culty ; and he seems to write in this manner, not be- 



294 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

eause he has studied it^ but because it is the mode of 
expression most familiar and easy to him. With this 
character of style^ a certain degree of negligence is 
not inconsistent^ nor even ungraceful ; for too accu- 
rate an attention to words is foreign to it Simplicity 
of style possesses this considerable advantage^ (hat, 
like simplicity of manners^ it shows us a man's seRti- 
ments and turn of mind laid open without disguise. 
A more studied and artificial mode of writing, however 
beautiful, has always this disadvantage^ that it exhib- 
its an author in form, like a man at court, where the 
splendour of dress, and the ceremonial of behavior^ 
conceal those peculiarities which distinguish one indi- 
vidual from another. But reading an author of sim- 
plicity is like conversing with a person of rank at 
home, and with ease, where we see his natural man- 
ners and his real character. 

With regard to simplicity, ih general, we may ob- 
serve, that the ancient original writers are always the 
most eminent for it. This proceeds from a very obn- 
ous cause, that they wrote from the dictates of natural 
genius, and were not formed upon the labours and 
^ writings of others. 

Of affectation in style, which is opposed to siniph- 
city, we have a remarkable instance in our language. 
Lord Shaftesbury, though an author of considerabk 
met it, can express nothing with simplicity. He seems 
to have considered it as vulgar, and beneath the dig- 
nity of a man of fashion, to speak like other men. 
Hence he is perpetually in buskins, replete wtih cir- 
cumlocutions and artificial elegance. In every sen- 
tence the marks of labour are visible, — ^no appcarsDce 
of that ease which expresses a sentiment coming nat- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 295 

Ural and warm from the heart. He abounds with fig- 
ures and ornament of every kind^--«-is sometimes hap- 
py in them ; but his fondness for them is too con<«> 
spicuous ; and having once seized some metaphor or 
allusion that pleased him, he knows not how to part 
with it. He possessed delicacy and refinement of 
taste to a degree that may be called excessive and 
sickly ; but he had little warmth of passion ; and the 
coldness of his character suggested that artificial and 
stately manner which appears in his writings. No 
author is more dangerous to the tribe of imitators than 
Shaftesbury^ who^ amidst several ver}' considerable 
blemishes, has^ at the same time, many dazzling and 
imposing beauties. 

It is very possible, however, for an author to 
write with simplicity, and yet to be destitute of beauty. 
He may be free from affectation, and not have merit. 
The beautiful simplicity supposes an author in posses- 
sion of real genius, and capable of writing with solidity, 
purity, and brilliancy of imagination. In this case, 
the simplicity of his manner is the crowning ornament : 
it gives lustre to every other beauty ; it is the dress 
of nature, without which all beauties are but imper- 
fect. But if the mere absence of afiectation were 
sufficient to constitute the beauty of style, weak and dull 
writers might often have pretensions to it. A distinc- 
tion, therefore, must be made, between that simplicity 
which accompanies true genius, and which is entirely 
compatible with every proper ornament of style, and 
that which is the effect only of carelessness and inat- 
tention. 

Another character of style, difijercnt from those 
which have been already mentioned, is the vehemient. 



996 KHCiTOItXCAL QKAMHAIU 

This always supposes strength^ and is not, in any res* 
pect incompatible with simplicity. It is distinguished 
by a peculiar ardour ; it is the language of a man 
who$e imagination and passions are glowing and im- 
petuous. With a negligence of lesser graces^ he poors 
bitnself forth with the rapidity and plenitude of a tor- 
rent. The vehement belongs to the higher kinds of 
oratory ; and is rather expected from a man who is 
, speakings than from one who is writing in his closet 
Demosthenes is the most full and perfect example of 
this species of style. 

Having determined and explained the different 
characters of style, we shall conclude our observa* 
tions with a few directions for the attainment of ex- 
cellence in writing. 

The first direction proper to be observed is, to 
study clear ideas on the subject concerning which we 
are to write or to speak. What we conceive clearly 
and feel strongly we shall naturally express with 
clearness and with strength. We should, therefore^ 
think closely on the subject, till we have attained a 
full and distinct view of the matter which we are to 
clothe in words, — till we become warm and interested 
in it : then, and then only, shall we find a proper ex- 
pression begin to flow. 

In the second place, to the acquisition of a good 
style, the frequency of composing is indispensably 
requisite. But it is not every kind of composing 
which will improve style. By a careless and hasty 
habit of writing, a bad style will be acquired ; more 
trouble will afterwards be necessary to unlearn faults^ 
and correct negligence, than to endeavour, from a 
state of entire ignorance, to become acquainted with 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAft. 297 

the first radittents of conpoeitloii. In the begin- 
niog^ therefore^ we avglit to write with deliberation 
and with care« Facility and speed are the fruit of 
practice and experience. We must be cautious^ how- 
ever^ not to retard the course of thought^ nor cool the 
ardour of imagination, by pausing too long on every 
word we employ. On certain occasions^ there is a 
glow of composition which must be kept up^ if we ex- 
pect to express ourselves happily^ though at the ex* 
pense of some inaccuracies. A more severe examina* 
tion must be the woric of correction. What we have 
written should be laid by for some time, till the ar- 
dour of composition be subsided^ till the partiality 
for our expressions be weakened^ and the expressions 
themselves be forgotten : and then examining our 
work with a cool and critical eye^ as if it were the 
performance of another, we shall discover many im*' 
perfections which at first escaped our notice. 

In the third place^ an acqii0iBtance with the style of 
the best authors is peculiarly requisite. Hence a 
jast taste will be formed, and a copious fund be mf* 
pKed^ of words On every subject No exercise, per« 
haps, will be found more useful for acquiring a proper 
st^e, than to translate some passage from an elegant 
author into our own words. Thus, to take, for in* 
stance, a page of one of Mr. Addison's Spectators^ 
and read it attentively two or three times, till we are 
in full possession of the thoughts it contains ; then to 
lay aside the book^ to endeavour to write out the pas* 
sage from memory, as well as we can, — and then to 
compare what we have written with the style of the 
author. Such an exercise will, by comparison, show 
us our own defects ; will teach us to correct them j and, 



298 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

from the variety of expression which it will exUlnl; 
will conduct us to that which is most beautiful and 
perfect. 

In the fourth place, a caution must be given against 
a servile imitation of any one author whatever. A 
desire of imitating hampers genius, and generally pn- 
duces a stiffness of expression. They who follow an 
author minutely commonly copy his faults as well as 
his beauties. No one will ever become an accomplish- 
ed writer or speaker^ who has not some confidence in 
his own genius. We ought carefully to avoid usiag 
any author's particular phrases, or transferring passa- 
ges from him : such a habit will be fatal to all genuine 
composition. It is much better to possess something 
of our own, though of inferior beauty, than to endeaf* 
our to shine in borrowed ornaments, which will, at last; 
betray the utter barrenness of our genius. 

In the fifth place, it is a plain but important rule, 
with regard to style, tl}at we always endeavour to 
adapt it to the subject, and likewise to the capacity 
of our hearers, if we are to speak in public. To at- 
tempt a poetical, florid style, when it should be oar 
business only to argue and reason, is in the highest 
degree awkward and absurd. To speak with elaborate 
pomp of words, before those who cannot comprehend 
them, is equally ridiculous ahd useless. When we b^ 
gin to write or speak, we should previously impress 
on our minds a complete idea of the end to be aimed 
at ; keep this steadily in view, and adapt our style to 
it. 

We must, in the last place, recommend, that an at- 
tentive regard to style do not occupy us so much^ as 
to detract from a higher degree of attention to the 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 299 

4 

thoughts* This rule is the more necessary, since the 
present taste of the age seems to be directed mor^ to 
style than to thought It is much more easy to dress 
up trifling and common thoughts with some ornament 
of expression, than to afford a fund of vigorous, in- 
genious, and useful sentiments. The latter requires 
genius ; the former may be attained by industry, with 
the aid of very superficial parts. Hence the crowd 
of writers who are rich in words, but ^ poor in senti- 
9ients. Custom obliges us not to be inattentive to the 
ornaments of style, if we wish that our labours should 
be read and admired. But he is a contemptible wri- 
ter, who looks not beyond the dress of language, who 
lays not the chief stress upon his matter, and who 
does not regard ornament as a secondary and inferior 
recommendation. 

With respect to the figures of rhetoric with which 
style is so much invigorated and embellished, see* 
page 179. 



THUS far, with the most trifling alterations, I 
have followed Dr. B]air,«who, in those parts of oratory 
called Disposition and Elocution, or a choice and ar- 
rangement of words, has exceeded every writer who 
went before him. I flatter myself that in pronunciation 
or delivery, which forms the last part of oratory, some- 
thing more systematical and satisfactory has been 
offered in the present work, than in any that has hith- 
erto been published. But there is another part of 
oratory called invention, that has been but little in- 
sisted on by our modem writers, which, however,' 
seems to form the basis of the art. Dr. Blair has 

38 



300 RHETOftiCAL GHAMMAR, 

not only omittod but discounteaanced thb part of 
rhetoric ; and such an opinion have I of the good sense 
of thb writer* that I should much doubt of its utility, 
if the very reason of the things as wdl as the authori- 
ty of the ancients and some of the most respectable 
among the modems^ did not sanction and recommend 
it Dr. Priestley'^8 reasons for the use of topics ap- 
pear to me unanswerable. 

^^ I am aware (says he) that this whole business of 
topics- is objected to by some as altogether useless^ 
and what no persons^ who are capable of composing 
at all^ ever stand in need of^ or have recourse to.'' 
To this I reply^ that in fact, no person ever did, or 
ever <!an compose at all, without having recourse to 
something of a similar nature. What is recollection 
but the introduction of one idea into the mind by 
means of another with which it was previously associ- 
ated? Are not ideas associated by means of their 
connexion with, and reladon to, one another ? And 
is it not very possible, that particular ideas may be 
recollected by means of general ideas^ which include 
them? 

It is impossible to endeavour to recollect (or, as we 
generally say, invent) materials for a discourse, with- 
out running over in our minds such general heads of 
discourse as we have found by experience to assist us 
in that operation. It is even impossible to conceive 
in what other manner a voluntary effort to inventy or 
recollect, can be directed. A person may not have 
recourse to any particular list, or enumeration of 
topics ; or he may never have heard of the artificial 
distribution of them by rhetoricians : but if he com- 
pose at all, though he may be ignorant of the name. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR; 301 

he must be possessed of the thdng. And if a person 
have any regular method in his compositions, he must, 
moreover, have arranged those topics- in Jiis mind in 
some kind of order ; the several particulars of which, 
being attended to successively, furnish him with a 
plan for composition. Now is it not better to sit down 
to composition provided with a tolerably complete list 
of those topics, digested with care and precision, than 
make. use of such a one as we casually and without 
any design form to ourselves from general reading 
only, or a little practice in composition, which cannot 
but be very imperfect, and inadequate to the purpose 
to which it is applied ? 

After previously running over such a table, a person 
would be much better able to form an idea of the ex- 
tent of his subject, and might conduct his composition ac- 
cordingly ; or perusing it after reading the composition 
of another, he might with much greater certainty 
know whether any thing of importance had been left 
unsaid upon the subject : or whether, if the discourse 
were^ necessarily limited to a few arguments, the writ<> 
er had selected the best. 

If we pay any regard to the practice of the famous 
orators of antiquity, we cannot but be disposed to 
think favourably of topics $ for it is certain that they 
made great use of topics, as appears in the writings 
of Cicero and Qiaintilian. Too much may be expect- 
ed from any thing, and an improper use may be made 
of any thing; butthb is no argument against the ju- 
dicious and proper use of it 

It were absurd for any person slavishly to oblige 
himself to borrow something from every topic of dis- 
course ; much more to set it down in the order in 



302 liHETORICAL GRAMMAR.' 

which they may happen to be enumerated : but^ hav* 
ing glanced at the whole^ let him take what is most to 
his purpose, and omit every thing that woald appear 
far-fetched, or to be introduced for the sake of swel- 
ling the bulk of a discourse. 

I am very ready, however, to acknowledge, that 
rhetorical topics are more useful in the composition of 
set declamations on trite subjects^ and to young persons^ 
than in the communication of original matter, and. to 
persons much used to composition. Original thoughts 
cannot but suggest themselves, so that all the assist* 
ance any person can want in this case is a proper 
manner of arranging them. And a person much used 
to composition will have acqujired a habit of recollec- 
tion, without any express attention to topics ; just as 
a person used to the harpsichord, or any other instru- 
ment of music, will be able to perform without an 
express attention to rules, or even to the manner of 
placing his fingers. His idea of the tune in general 
is so slosely associated with all the motions of his fin- 
gers necessary to the playing of it, and these motions 
are also so closely associated together, that they follow 
one another mechanically, in what Dr. Hartley calls 
a secondarily automatic manner^ which is almost as 
certain as a motion originally and properly automata 

As rules for invention, or, as Dr. Priestly more 
properly calls it, recollection^ are established by such 
good reasons, and on so respectable authority, I shall 
present the student with a large extract from the Sys- 
tem of Oratory of the learned Dr. Ward, professor of 
Gresham College. And as this book has long been 
out of print, and is scarcely to be got, I flatter myself 
I shall make my reader no unacceptable present, by 



UHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 303 

giving him the learned professor's lectures on Fnven- 
tioHy or that part of rhetoric which treats on the meth- ^ 
od of finding out arguments for the proof of what is 
proposed. 

Of the principcd Distribution of Oratory. 

The principal distribution of the subject of oratory 
is made^ by dividing it into three kinds of discourse^ 
called by the ancients demonstrative, deliberative^ and 
judicial. The first of these comprehends all such dis- 
courses as relate to the praise or dispraise of persons 
or things. This is a very extensive field, and con- 
tains in it whatever in nature or art, on the account of 
any good or bad qualities, exellencies or defects, is 
fit to be made the subject of a discourse. By this, 
virtue is applauded, and vice censured ; good exam- 
ples recommended to the imitation of others, and bad 
ones exposed to their abhorrence. All panegyric and 
invective are its proper themes. So that the chief design 
of these discourses is to inspire men with generous 
sentiments of honour and virtue, and to give them a 
distaste to every thing that is base and vicious, by 
examples of each, which are the most powerful means 
of instruction. Though, as* has been said already, 
they are not wholly confined to persons. To the de- 
liberative kind belongs whatever may become a subject 
of debate, consultation, or advice. Of this sort are 
all speeches made in public assemblies, which respect 
the common good and benefit of mankind, their lives, 
liberties, and estates ; whatever is advised to, or dis- 
suaded from upon the foot of any valuable interest, 
which is the end proposed in these discourses, so far 
as it is consistent with honor and justice. The last 



304 EBBTOmiCAI. GRAMMAm. 

liead contains all judicial subjecU ; by tti% prepcrty 
is secured, innocence protected, jastiee majntaimd, 
and crimes punished. All matters eanvaaaed at tk 
bar are of this sort And it is doubtless a very vd* 
uable and useful end in speaking, to yindicate justice 
and equity in opposition to fraud or violence. Aro- 
totle is said to have been the author of this dinsiaiiy 
which seems to be very just ; since perhaps there is 
no subject of oratory, whether sacred or civil, but 
may be referred to one or other of these heads, as 
will be shown hereafter, when I come to treat of ead 
of them in particular. 

Of Invention in general^ and particularly of CamtMi^ 

Places. 

Invention, considered in general, is the discovery (if 
such things as are proper to persuade. And in order to 
attain this end, the orator proposes to himself thre^ 
things : to prove or illustrate the subject upon which 
he treats, to conciliate the minds of his hearers, asd 
to engage their passions in his favour. And as these 
require different kinds of arguments or motives, inven- 
tion furnishes him with a supply for each of them, as 
will be shown in their order. 

I shall first consider that part of inventioHf which 
directs to arguments proper for the proof of a thii^i 
which, as Cicero tells us, is ^^ the discovery of sueh 
things as are really true, or that seem to be so, asd 
make the thing, for which they are produced, appear 
probablc.^^ And .the things, which are thus discov- 
ered, are called arguments ; for, *^ an argument,'^ as 
defined by him, ^^ is a reason, which induces us to 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 90& 

believe what before we doubted of." If we reflect 
upoB those things^ which relate to the comtnoii affairs 
of lifef and the numerous transactioiid between mankind^ 
we shall find that most of them are of a dubious na- 
ture^ and liable to various constructions^ as they are 
taken in diflTerent views ; whence a diversity of opin- 
ions is formed concemiDg them. And where the na- 
ture of the thing does not admit of certainty^ every 
considerate and prudent person will give into that 
side of the question^ which carries in it the greater de- 
gree of probability. 

And as these are the subjects with which the ancient 
orators were principally concerned^ we find^ by Cic- 
ero's definition^ that all he requires of such arguments 
as they commonly made use of^ is to render a thing 
probable. Indeed there are some things which do not 
so much require reasoning, as a proper and suitable 
manner of representing them, to nrake them credible ; 
and because the several ways of illustrating these are 
also taught by the precepts of this art, they are like- 
wise^ in a large sense of the word, called arguments. 

But as different kinds of discourses require differ- 
ent argumentSj rhetoricians have considered them two 
ways ; in general, under certain heads, as a common 
fund for all subjects ; and in a more particular man- 
ner, as they are suited to demonstrative^ delibercUive, 
or jiidicto/ discourses. At present F shall treat only 
upon the former of these. And now, that one thing 
may receive proof and confirmation from another, it 
is necessary that there be some relation between 
them ; for all things are not equally adapted to prove 
one another. 

That we may the better conceive this, I shall make 



306 KUEtORIC AL GUAMMA^. 

use of a plain and familiar instance. In measuring 
the quantity of two things which we would show to 
be either equal or unequal^ if they are of such a na- 
ture that one cannot be applied to the other^ then we 
take a third things which may be applied to them 
both^ — and that must be equal at least to one of the 
two; which^ if applied to the other, and found equal 
to that also, we presently conclude that those two things 
are equal ; but if it be unequal to the other, we say 
that those two things are unequal. Because it is the 
certain and known property of all quantities, that 
whatsoever two things are equal to a third, are equal 
to one another ; and where one of any two things is 
equal to a third, and the other unequal, those two 
things are unequal to one another. What has been 
said of quantiti€;s will hold true in all other casesy— 
that so far as any two things or ideas agree to a thirdf 
so far they agree to one another. And by agreeing^ 
I understand this, that the one may be affirmed of the 
other. So likewise on the contrary, as far as one of 
any two things or ideas does agree to a third, and the 
other does not, so far they disagree with one another, 
in which respect one of them cannot be truely affirmed 
of the other. Since therefore in every propositioa 
one thing is spoken of another, if we would find out 
whether the two ideas agree to each other or not, 
where this is not evident of itself, we must find out 
some third thing, the idea of which agrees to one of 
them ; and then that being Applied to the other,, as it 
does agree or disagree with it, so . we may conclude 
that the two things proposed do agree or disagree with 
one 'another. 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, 307 

This will be made more clear by an example or 
two. Should it be inquired, Whether virtue is to be 
loved f the agreement between virtue and love might 
be found by comparing them separately with happi- 
ness^ as a common measure to both. For since the 
idea of happiness agrees to that of love^ and the idea 
of virtue to that of happiness^ it follows that the ideas of 
virtue and love agree to one another ; and therefore 
it may be affirmed^ That virtue is to he laved. But 
on the contrary^ because the idea of misery disagrees 
with that of love^ but the idea of vice agrees to that 
of misery, the two ideas of vice and love must conse- 
quently disagree with one another ; and therefore it 
would be false to assert, That vice is to be loved. Now 
this third thing logicians call the medium or middle 
termy because it does as it were connect two extremes, 
that is, both parts of a proposition. But rhetoricians 
eall it an argumerUy because it is so applied to what 
was before proposed, as to become the instrument of 
procuring our assent to it. I have mentioned these 
plain examples only for illustration, by which we may 
in some measure perceive the nature and use of argu- 
ments. 

But whence, and by what methods they are to be 
sought^ I shall now explain. 

A lively imagination and readiness of thought are 
undoubtedly a very great help to invention. Some 
persons are naturally endued with that quickness of 
* fancy and penetration of mind/ that they are seldom 
at a loss for arguments either to defend their own 
opinions, or to attack their adversaries. However, 
these things being the gift of nature, and not to be 

39 



306 RHETORICAL GltAMMAR. 

gained by art, do not properly fall under our present 
consideration. 

But because all are not bom with a like happy 
genius^ and have not the same opportunity to cald- 
rate their minds with learning and knowledge^ and 
because nothing is more difficult than to dwell loBg 
upon the consideration of one things in order to find 
out the strongest arguments which may be offered for 
and against it^ — upon these accounts art has prescrib- 
ed a method to lessen in some measure these dificid- 
tieS; and help every one to a supply of argumeats 
upon any subject. And this is done by the coDtri- 
vance of common places^ which Cicero calls the sidt^ 
or heads of arguments^ and, by a Greek name, topics* 
They are of two sorts, internal and extemoL As to 
the former, though things with regard to their natnre 
and properties are exceedingly various, yet they have 
certain common relations, by means whereof the truth 
of what is either affirmed or denied concerning them 
in auy respect may be evinced. The ancient Greek 
rhetoricians therefore reduced these relations to sone 
general heads ; which are termed common placesy b^ 
cause the reasons or arguments suited to prove any 
proposition are reposited in them, as a common fund 
er receptacle. And they are called internal headsy be- 
cause they arise from the subject upon which the ora- 
tor treats ; and are therefore distingubhed from oth- 
ers, named external^ which he fetch^i^ from without, and 
applies to his present purpose, as will be shown here- 
after. Cicero and Quintilian make them sixteen; 
three of which comprehend the whole thing they are 
brought to prove ; namely. Definition, Enumeratm^ 
and Notation ; and of the remaining thirteen some 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 309 

.cmitain a part of it^ and t^ rest its vaiious proper- 
ties and circumstances, with other considerations re- 
lating to it; and these are GenuSy Species, Antecedents j 
ConsequeniSy Adjuncts^ Canjugatesy Cause^ Effect^ 
Contraries^ Opposites^ Similitude^ Dissimilitude, and 
Comparison. I shall give a brief account of each of 
these^ in the order now mentioned. 

Definition explains the nature of the thing defin- 
ed^ and 9hows what it is. And to whatsoever the 
definition agrees, the thing defined does so likewise. 
If therefore Socrates be a rational creature, he is a 
man ; because it is the definition of a man that be is 
a rational creature. 

Enumeration takes in all the parts of a thing. 
And from this we prove, that what agrees to all the 
parts, agrees to the whole ; and what does not agree 
to any one or more parts, does not agree to the whole. 
As when Cicero proves to Piso, that all the Roman 
state hated him ; by enumerating the several ranks 
and orders of Roman citizens, who all did so. 

Notation or Etymology explains the meaning or 
signification of a word. From which we reason thus : 
If he cannot pay his debts, he is insolvent ; for that is 
the meaning of the word insolvent. 

G£iVU3 is what contains under it two or more sorts of 
things, differing in nature. From this head logicians 
reason thus : Because every animal is mortal, and man 
is an animal, therefore man is mortal. But orators 
make a further use of this argument, which they call 
ascending from the hypothesis to the thesis, that is, 
from a particular to a general. As, should a person, 
when speaking in praise of justice, take occasion thence 
to commend and show the excellency of virtue in gen- 



310 HHETORICAL GRAMMAB. 

eral^ with a view to repder that partiQolar Tirtue 
more amiable. For since every species contains in it 
the whole nature of the genas to which it relates^ be- 
sides what is peculiar to itself^ whereby it is distin- 
guished from it^ — what is affirmed of the genus must 
of necessity be applicitble to the species. 

Species is that which comprehends under it all the 
individuals of the same nature. From hence we may 
argue : He is a man^ therefore he has a rational soid. 
And orators sometimes take occasion from this head 
to descend from the thesis to the hypothesis ; that is^ 
in treating upon what is more general to introduce 
some particular contained under it^ for the greatet 
illustration of the general. 

Antecedents are such things, as being once al- 
lowed, others necessarily, or very probably, follow* 
From this head an inseparable property is proved from 
its subject : as, it is material, and therefore corropti* 
ble. 

Consequents are such things, as being allowed, 
necessarily, or very probably, infer their antecedents. 
Hence the subject is proved from an inseparable prop- 
erty in this manner : If is corruptible, and therefore 
material. 

Adjuncts are separable properties of things, or 
circumstances that attend them. These are very au- 
merous, and afford a great variety of arguments, some 
of which usually occur in every discourse. They do 
not necessarily infer their subject, but, if fitly chosen^ 
render a thing credible, and are a sufficient ^usd 
for assent. The way of reasoning from them we shall 
show presently. 

CoNJu«>AT£8 are words deduced from the 9&b^^ 



nrfBTORICAL GRAMMAR. 311 

origin with that of our subject. By these the habit 
is proved from its acts : as^ He who does justly is just. 
He does not act wisely^ therefore he is not wise. But 
this inference will not hold^ unless the actions appear 
continued and constant. 

A CAUSE is that^ by the force of which a thing does 
exist. There are four kinds of causes, — matter, form, 
efficient, and end, which afford a great variety of ar- 
guments. The way of reasoning from them is to infer 
the effect from the cause : as, Man is endued with 
reason, therefore he is capable of knowledge. 

An EFFECT is that which arises from a cause, 
therefore the cause is proved by it ; as, He is endued 
with knowledge, therefore with reason. 

Contraries are things which, under the ' same 
genus, are at the utmost distance from each other. 
So that what we grant to the one we utterly deny the 
other: as, Virtue ought to be embraced, therefore 
vice should be avoided. 

Opposites are such things, which, though repug* 
nant to each other, yet are not direcdy contradictory : 
as, to love and to injure ; to hate and to commend. 
They differ from contraries in this, that they do not 
absolutely exclude one another. An argument is 
drawn from things repugnant, thus : He will do a man 
a mischief, therefore he does not love him. He loves 
a man, therefore he will not.reproach him. 

Similitude is an agreement of things in quality. 
Thus Cicero proves, that pernicious citizens ought 
to be taken out of the state ; by the likeness they bear 
to corrupted members, which are cut off to prevent 
further damage to the body. 

Dissimilitude is a disagreement of things in qual- 



312 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

ity. From this head Cicero shows the preference of 
his own exile to Piso's government of Macedonia; 
by the diiference between their ponduct^ and the peo- 
ple's esteem of them. 

Comparison is made three ways ; for either a thing 
is compared with a greater, with a less, or with its 
e(]fual. This place therefore differs from that of si- 
militude on this accounts that the quality was consid- 
ered in that, but here the quantity. An argument 
from the greater is thus drawn : If five legions could 
not conquer the enemy, much less will two. And by 
this the manner of the rest may be easily conceived. 
. I shall just give one example somewhat larger than 
I have hitherto done of the manner of reasoning from 
these heads, whereby the use of them may further ap- 
pear. If any one therefore should have endeavoured 
to persuade Cicero not to accept of his life upon the 
condition offered him by Antony, — that he would bam 
his Philippic orations, which had been spoken against 
him, — he might be supposed to use such arguments as 
these ; partly taken from the adjuncts of Cicero, port- 
ly from those of Antony, and partly from the thi^g 
j[tself. And first with regard to Cicero it might be 
isaid : That so great a man ought not to purchase his 
life at so dear a price, as the loss of that immortal 
honour which, by so great pains and labour, he had 
acquired. And this might be confirmed by another 
argument : That now he was grown old, and could not 
expect to live much longer. And from the character 
of Antony he might argue thus : That he was very 
crafty and deceitful, and only designed, by giving 
him hopes of life, to have the Philippics first burnt, 
which otherwise he knew would transmit to posterity 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. &13 

an eternal brand of . infamy upon him^ and then he 
would take off the author. And this might be shown 
by comparisibn : For since he would not spare others^ 
who had not so highly exasperated him, and from. 
whom he had not so much to fear^ certainly he would 
not foii^ve Cicero^ since he knew well enough, that, so 
long as he lived, he himself could never be in safety. 
And lastly an argument might also be fetched from 
the nature of the thing itself in the following manner : 
That Cicero by this action would shamefully betray 
the state, and the cause of liberty, which he had, 
through his whole life, most courageously defended, 
with so great honour to himself and advantage to the 
public. Upon such an account a person might have 
used these, or the like arguments with Cicero, which 
arise from the forementioned heads. 

From this account of common places it is easy to 
conceive what a large field of discourse they open to 
the mind upon every subject. These different con- 
siderations furnish out a great number and variety of 
arguments, sufficient to supply the most barren 
invention. He can never be at a loss for matter who 
considers well the nature of his subject, the parts of 
which it consists, the circumstances which attend it, 
the causes whence it springs, the effects it produces, 
its agreement, disagreement, or repugnancy to other 
things, — and in like manner carries it through all 
the remaining heads. But although this method will 
assist us very much to enlarge upon a subject, and 
place it in different views, yet a prudent man is not 
so desirous to say a great deal as to speak to the pur- 
pose, and therefore will make choice of proper argu- 
ment3, and such only which have a direct tendency 



314 RHETORICAL aftAMMAR: 

to cimfinn or illustrate his subject. And for tfais end 
it is necessary for him to gain first a thorough knowl- 
edge of his subject^ and then arguments mil naturally 
spring up in his mind proper to support it ; and if be 
be still at a loss, and find occasion to have recourse 
to these beads, he will readily perceive whence to 
take those which are best suited to his purpose. 

, Of external Topics. 

The nature and design of Common Places have been 
shown already ; and a particular account of those 
which, because they are taken from the subject mat- 
ter of a^ discourse, are therefore called internal^ bas 
likewise been given. But the orator sometimes rea- 
sons from such topics as do not arise from his subject; 
but from things of a different nature^ and for that rea- 
son are called external. And because the former are 
more properly invented by him, and the effect of his 
art, Aristotle calls them artificial topics^ and the latter 
inartificial. But as they both require skill in A^ 
management, Quintilian very much blames those iriio 
take no notice of these latter, but exclude them from 
the art of rhetoric. I propose, therefore, to make 
them the subject of my present discourse, and show 
the methods of reasoning from them. They are all tak-- 
en from authorities, and are, by one general name, 
called Testimonies. 

Now a Testimony may be expressed by writwft 
speech, or any other sign proper to declare a persoirs 
mind. And all testimonies may be distinguished mto 
two sorts, divine and human. A divine testtn^i^ 
when certainly known to be such, is incontestable, ^ 
admits of no debate, but should be acquiesced in witn- 



J 



• 



RHETOniCAI. GRAMMAR. 315 

#ut heaitetion. lodeed the ancient Greeks and Ro- 
mans esteemed the pretended oracles of their deities^ 
the answers of their augurs and the like fallacies^ di* 
vine testimonies. But with us^ no one can he igno- 
rant of their true notion^ though they do not so direct* 
ly come binder our present consideration. Human 
Testimonies are of various kinds ; but as they furnish 
the orator with arguments^ (in which view I am now 
to consider them^) they may be reduced to three 
heads ; Writings, Witnesses, and Contrckcts. 

By Writii^s here are to be understood written laws, 
wills^ or other legal instruments, expressed and con- 
veyed in that manner. And it is not so much the 
farce and validity of such testimonies, considered in 
themselves, that is here intended, as the occasion of 
dispute which may at any time arise concerning their 
true design and import, when produced in proof upon 
either side of a controversy. And these are five : 
Ambiguity, Disagreement between the words and inten^ 
Hon, Cantranetry, Reasoning, and Jnierpretation. I 
shall speak to each of these in their order. 

A writing is then said to be ambiguous, when it is 
capable of two or more senses, which makes the writ- 
er's design uncertain. Now ambiguity may arise 
either from single words, or the construction of sen- 
tences. From single words ; as when either the sense 
of a word, or the application of it, is doubtful. As : 
should it be questioned whether ready money ought to 
be included under the appelkUibn of chattels left by a 
will. Or: if a testator bequeath a certain legacy to his 
nephew Thomas, and he has two nephews of that name. 
But ambiguity is also sometimes occasioned from the 
construction of a sentence ; as when several things or 

40 



316 RaETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

persons havit^ been already mentioned^ it is doubtful 
to which of them that which follows ought to be refeh 
red. For example : a person writes thus in his will : 
Let my heir give as a legacy to THiusy a horse out cf 
my stable^ which he pleases. Here it may be question- 
ed whether the word he refers to the heir, or to Titi- 
us; and consequently, whether the heir be allowed 
to give Titius which horse he pleases, or Titius may 
chose which he likes best. Now as to controversies 
of this kind, in the first case above mentioned^ the 
party who claims the chattels may plead, that all 
moveable goods come under that name, and therefore 
that he has a right to the money. This he will en- 
deavour to prove from some instances where the word 
has been so used. The business of the opposite par- 
ty is to refute this, by showing that money is not tbeie 
included. And if either side produce precedeots k 
his favour, the other may endeavour to show the ca- 
ses are not parallel* As to the second case, arising 
from an ambiguity in the name, if any other words or 
expressions in the will seem to. countenance either of 
the claimants, he will not fail to interpret them to bis 
advantage. So likewise if any thing said by the tes- 
tator, in his life time, or any regard shown to either 
of these nephews more than the other, may help to 
determine which of them was intended, a proper use 
may be made of it. And the same may be said with 
regard to the third case ; in which the legatee may 
reason likewise from the common use of language, and 
show, that in such expressions it is unusal to make 
the reference to the last or next antecedent j a«" 
thence plead, that it was the design of the testator to 
give him the option. — But in answer to this it w*y 



HHETORICAL GRAMHAr. 317 

be said^ that allowing it to be very often so, yet in 
this instance it seems more easy and natural to repeat 
the verb give after please^ and so to supply the sen- 
tence^ which he pleases to give him, referring it to the 
heir^ than to bring in the verb choose^ which was not 
in the sentence before, and so by supplying the sense, 
which he phases to choose, tcgive the option to Titius. 
But where controversies of this kind arise from a law, 
recourse may be had to other laws, where the same 
thing has been expressed with greater clearness, which 
may help to determine the sense of the passage in dispute. 
A second controvesy from writings is when one 
party adheres to the words, and the other to what he 
asserts was the writer's intention. Now he who op- 
poses the literal sense, either contends, that what he 
himself offers is the simple and plain meaning of the 
writing, or that it must be so undersood in the partic- 
ular case in debate. An instance of the former is 
this, as we find it in Cicero. A person who died 
without children, but left a widow, had made this pro- 
vision in his will : If I Iiave a son born to me, lie shall 
be my heir. And a little after : If my son die, before 
he comes of age, let Curius be my heir. There is no 
son bom, Curius therefore sues for the estate, and 
pleads the intention of the testator, who designed him 
for his heir if he should have no son who arrived at 
age ; and says, there can be no reason to suppose he 
did not intend the same person for his heir if he 
had no son, as if he should have one who afterwardji 
died in his minority. But the heir at law insists* up- 
on the words of the will, which, as he says, require 
that first a son should be born, and afterwards die un- 
der age, before Curius can succeed to the inher- 



318 RHETORICAL, GRAMMAR. 

itance. And there being no son, a substituted licir, 
as Curius was^ can have no claim where the first htir 
does not exist, from whom he derives his pretension^ 
and was to succeed by the appointment of the will. 
Of the latter case rhetoritians give this example:!! 
wds forbidden by a law to open the city gates in tk 
night. A certain person^ notwithstanding^ in tim of 
war did open them in the nighty and let in some ovxil- 
iary troops to prevent their being cut off by the enemf 
who was posted near the town. Afterwards, when the 
war was over, this person is arraigned, and tried for 
his life on the account of this action. Now in sueh a 
case the prosecutor founds his charge upon the ex- 
press words of the law ; and pleads that no suflcient 
reason can be assigned for going contrary to the letter 
of it, which would bcf to make a new law, and not to 
execute one already made. The defendant on th^ 
other hand alleges, that the fact he is charged with 
cannot however come within the intention of the law; 
since he either could not, or ought not to have eon- 
pried with the letter of it in that particular case, which 
must therefore necessarily be supposed to 4iave been 
excepted in the design of that law, when it was made. 
But to this the prosecutor may reply; that aD such 
exceptions, as are intended by any law, are usually 
expressed in it : and instances may be brought of 
particular exceptions expressed in some laws; and if 
there be any such exception in the law under debate, 
it should especially be mentioned. He may further 
add, that to admit of exceptions not expressed in the 
law itself, is to enervate the force of all laws by ex- 
plaining them away, and in effect to render them use* 
less. And this he may further corroborate by com- 



BHETO&ICAL GRAMMAB. 319 

paiifig the law under del)ate with others, and consid* 
ering its nature and importance^ and how far the pub- 
lic interest of the state is concerned in the due and 
regular execution of it; whence he may infer, that 
should exceptions be admitted . in other laws of less 
consequence, yet, however, they ought not in this. 
Lastly, he may consider the reason alleged by the de- 
fendant, on which he founds his plea, and show there 
was not that necessity of violating the law in the pres- 
ent case as is pretended. And this is often the more 
requisite because the party who disputes against the 
words of the law always endeavours to support his al- 
legations from the equity of the case. If, therefore, 
this plea can be enecvated, the main support of the 
defendant's cause is removed. For as the former ar* 
guments are designed to prevail with the judge to de- 
termine the matter on this side the question from the 
nature of the case, — so the intention of this argument 
is to induce him to it, from the weakness of the defence 
made by the opposite party. But the defendant will 
on the contrary use such arguments as may best de- 
monstrate the equity of his cause, and endeavour to 
vindicate the fact from his good design and intention 
in doing it. He will say, that the laws have allotted 
punishments for the commission of such facts as are 
evil in themselves, or prejudicial to others ; neither 
of which can be charged upon the action for which he 
is accused : that no law can be rightly executed, if 
more regard be had to the words and syllables of the 
writing, than tA the intention of the legislator. To 
which purpose he may allege that direction of the law 
itself, which says : The law ought not to be too rigor- 
QtLsbf interpreted, nor the words of it strained ; but the 



'S20 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

true intenUan and design of each partofU duly amsid* 
ered. As also, that saying of Cbero : What hsw mag 
not be weakened and destroyed, if we bend the sense 
to the words, and do not regard the design and view nf 
the legislator ? Hence he may take occasion to com^ 
plain of the hardship of such a procedure, that m 
difference should be made between an audacious and 
wilful crime and an honest or necessary action, which 
might happen to disagree with the letter of the law, 
though not with the intent of it. And as it was obsenr- 
ed before to be of considerable service to the accuser, if 
he could remove the defendant's plea of equity, — so 
it will be of equal advantage to the defendant, if he 
can fix upon^ any words in the law which may in the 
least seem to countenance his case, since this will take 
off the main force of the charge. 

The third controversy of this kind is, when two 
writings happen to clash with each other, or . at least 
seem to. do so. Of this Hermogenes gives the fbUow- 
ing instance. One law enjoins : He, who continues 
cdone in a ship during a tempest, shall have the proper^ 
ty of the ship. Another law says : A disisAerited sm 
shaU enjoy no part of his father* s estate* Now a aoa 
who had been disinherited by his father, happens to 
be in his father'i^ ship in a tempest, and continues 
there alone, when every one else had deserted it 
He claims the ship by the former of these laws, and 
his brother tries his right with him by the latter. la 
such cases therefore it may first be considered, whetii- 
er the two laws can be reconciled. And if that can- 
not be done, then which of them appears more equita* 
ble. Also whether one be positive, and the other 
negative ; because prohibitions are a sort of excep- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 321 

iioDS to positive iiijuiictions* Or if one be a general 
law,-— and the other more particular^ and come near- 
«r to the matter in question. Likewise which was 
last made: since former laws are often abrogated, 
either wholly or in part, by subsequent laws ; or at 
least were designed to be so. Lastly, it may be ob- 
served, whether one of the laws be not plain and ex- 
press, and the other more dubious, or has any ambi- 
guity in it. All or any of which things that party 
will not omit to improve for hi^ advantage, whose in- 
terest is concerned in it. 

The fourth controversy is Reasoning: as when 
something not expressly provided for by a law is in- 
ferred by similitude, or parity of reason, from what is 
contained in it. Qpintiiian mentions this instance of 
it : There was a law made at Tarentum to prokUnt the 
exportation of wooly but a certain person exports sheep. 
In this case the prosecutor may first compare the thing, 
which occasions the charge, with the words of the law, 
and show their agreement, and how unnecessary it was 
that particular thing should have been expressly men- 
tioned in the law, since it is plainly contained in it, 
or at least an evident consequence from it. He may 
then plead th^t many things of a like nature are omit- 
ted in other laws for the same reason : and, lastly, he 
may urge the reasonableness and equity of the proce- 
dure. The defendant on the other hand will endeavour 
to show the deficiency of the reasoning and the differ- 
ence between the two cases. He will insist upon the 
plain and express words of the law, and set forth the 
ill tendency of such inferences, and conclusions drawn 
from similitudes and comparisons ; since there is scare 
any thing but ia some respect may bear a resemblance 
to another. 



92^ RHETOHICAL GUAMM AB. 

The last controversy under this head is hierpr^^ 
tionf in which the dispute turns upon the true mean* 
ing and explication of the law^ in reference to that 
particular case. We have the following instance of 
this in the pandects ; A man who had two sons^ both 
under age^ substitutes Titius as heir to hint leho should 
die lastf provided both of them died in timr minontjf. 
They both perish together at seoj before they came to age. 
Here arises a douU^ whether the substitution can take 
placcj or the inheritarice devolves to the heir at law. 
The latter pleads^ that as neither of them can be said 
to have died last, the substitution cannot take place^ 
which was suspended upon the conditioni that one di- 
ed after jthc other. But to this it may be said^ it was 
the intention of the testator that if both died in their 
nonage, Titius should succeed to the inheritance ; and 
therefore it makes no difference whether they died 
together, or one after the other ; and so the law de- 
termines it. 

The second head of external arguments are fVitness^ 
es. These may either give their evidence, when ab* 
sent, in writing subscribed wit|) their name ; or pres- 
ent, by word of mouth. And what both of them tes- 
tify, may either be. from hearsay, or^ what they saw 
themselves, and were present at the time it was done. 
As the weight of the evidence may be thought greater 
or less on each of these accounts, either party will 
make such use of it as he finds to his advantage. The 
characters of the witnesses are also to be considered ; 
and if any thing be found in their lives or behaviour 
that is justly exceptionable to invalidate their evi* 
dence, it ought not to be omitted. And how they are 
affected to the contending parties, or either of the% 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 323 

may deserve consideration : for some allowances may 
be judged reasonable in case of friendship, or enmity^ 
where there is no room for SLUf other exception. But 
regard should chiefly be had to what they testify, and 
how far the cause is effected by it. Cicero is very 
large upon most of these heads in his defence of Mar- 
cus Fonteious, with a design to weaken the evidence 
of the Gauls against him. And where witnesses are 
produced on one side only, as orators sometimes at- 
tempt to lessen the credit of this kind of proof, by 
pleading that witnesses are liable to be corrupted or bi* 
assed by some prevailing interest or passion to which 
arguments taken from the nature and circumstances 
of things are not subject, it may be answered on the 
other hand, that sophistical arguments, and false col- 
ourings, are not exposed to infamy or punishment, 
whereas witnesses are restrained by shame and penal-^ 
ties, nor would the law require them if they were not 
necessary. 

The third and last head of external arguments are 
ConiractSy which may be either public or private. 
By public are meant the transactions between different 
states, as leagues, alliances, and the like ; which de- 
pend on the laws of nations, and come more properly 
under deliberative discourses, to which I shall refer 
them. Those are called private which relate to les- 
ser bodies or societies of men, and single persons ; 
and may be either written or verbal. And it is not so 
much the true meaning and purport of them, that is 
here considered, as their force and obligation. And 
as the Roman law declares. Nothing can be mare 
agreeable to human faithy than that persons should stand 
to their as^reements^ — therefore in controversies of this 

41 



324 UH£TORlCAL GUAMMAK«. 

kind^ the party whose interest it is that the contract 
should be maintained will plead that such covenants 
have the force of private laws^ and ought religiously 
to be obseryed^ since the common affairs of mankind 
are transacted in that manner ; and therefore to vio- 
late them is to destroy all commerce and society among 
men. On the other side it may be said^ that justice 
and equity are chiefly to be regarded, which are im- 
mutable. And besides, that the public laws are the 
common rule to determine such differences, which are 
designed to redress those who are aggrieved. And^ in- 
deed, where a compact has been obtained by force or 
fraud, it is in itself void, and has no effect either in 
law or reason. But on the other hand, the Roman 
lawyers seem to have very rightly determined, that 
all such obligations as are founded in natural equity, 
though not binding by national laws, and are there* 
fore called nuda pactdj ought, however, in honour and 
conscience, to be performed. 

Thus I have gone through the common heads of in- 
vention, both internal and external, which may be of 
service to an orator, when his view is to inform his 
hearers, and prove the truth of what he asserts. But 
the particular application of them, to. the several sorts 
of discourses he may have occasion to treat upon, I 
shall now proceed to explain. 

Of tJie State of a Controversy. 

The ancients observing, that the principal question 
or point of dispute, in all controversies, might be re- 
ferred to some particular head, reduced those heads 
to a certain number ; that both the nature of the ques- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR/ 325 

tion might by that means be better known^ and the 
arguments suited to it be discovere(l with greater ease. 
And these heads they call States. 

By the SteUe of a Controversy then we are to un- 
(lerstand. the principal point in dispute between con- 
' tending parties^ upon the proof of which the whole 
cause or controversy depends. We find it expressed . 
by several other names in ancient writers : as, The con- 
stitution of the cause, The general heady and The chief 
question. And as this is the principal thing to be 
attended to in every such discourse, so it is what first 
requires the consideration of the speaker, and should 
be well fixed and digested in his mind before he pro- 
ceeds to look for arguments proper to support it. 
For what can be more absurd than for a person to at- 
tempt the proof of any thing before he has well settled 
in his own mind a clear and distinct notion what the 
thing is which he would endeavour to prove : Quintil- 
ian describes it to be That kind of question which 
arises from the first conflict of causes. In judicial ca- 
ses it immediately follows upon the charge of the plain- 
tiff, and plea of the defendant. Our common law ex- 
presses it by one word, namely, the Issue : which in- 
terpreters explain, by describing it to be. That point 
of matter depending in suit, whereupon the parties join, 
and put their cause to the trial. Examples will further 
help to illustrate this, and render it more evident. 
In the cause of Milo, the charge of the Clodian party 
is, Milo hilled Clodius. Milo's plea or defence, / kil' 
led hititf but justly. Hence arises this grand question, 
or state of the cause : Whether it was lawful for Milo 
to kill Clodius ? And that Clodius was lawfully kil- 
led by Milo, is what Cicero in his defence of Milo 



326 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

principally endeavours to prove. This is the main 
subject of that fine and beautiful oration. The ^hole 
of his discourse is to be considered as centering at 
last in this one point. Whatever different matters 
are occasionally mentioned, will, if closely attended 
to, be found to have been introduced some way or 
other, the better to support and carry on this desiga. 
Now in such cases, where the fact is not denied, but 
sonf?ething is offered in its defence, the state of the 
cause is taken from the defendant's plea, who is oblig- 
ed to make it good. As in the instance here given, 
the chief point in dispute was the lawfulness of Milo^s 
action, which it was Cicero's business to demonstrate. 
But when the defendant denies the fact, the state of the 
cause arises from the accusation ; the proof of which 
then lies upon the plaintiff, and not, as in the former 
case, up on the defendant. So in the cause of Rosci- 
us, the charge made against him is, That he kiBed his 
father. But he denies the fact. The grand question 
therefore to be argued is : Whether or not he killed his 
father ? The proof of this lay upon the accusers. And 
Cicero's design in the defence of him is to show, that 
they had not made good their charge. But it some- 
times happens, that the defendant neither absolutely 
denies the fact, nor attetnpts to justify it; but only 
endeavours to qualify it by denying that it is a crime 
of that nature, or deserves that name by which it is 
expressed in the charge. We have an example of 
this proposed by Cicero : A person is accused of sac- 
rilege, for taking a thing that was sacred^ out of apri- 
tmte house. He owns thefact, but denies it to he sa- 
crilege : since it was committed in a private house^ and 
not in a temple. Hence this question arises : Wheth- 



f 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 



327 



er to take a sacred thing out of a private house is to be 
deemed sacrilege^ or only simple theft ? It lies upon 
the accuser to prove, what the other denies; and, 
therefore, the state of the cause is here also, as well 
as in the preceding case, taken from the indictment. 
But besides the principal question, there are other 
subordinate questions, which follow upon it in the 
course of a dispute, and should be carefully distin- 
guished from it : particularly that which arises from 
the reason or argument which is brought in proof of 
the principal question. ^For the principal question 
itself proves nothing, but is the thing to be proved, 
and becomes at last the conclusion of the discourse. 
Thus in the cause of Milo, his argument is ; / killed 
Clodius justly f because he assassinated me. Unless the 
Clodian party be supposed to deny this, they give up 
their cause. Hence therefore this subordinate ques- 
tion follows : Whether Clodius assassinated Milo ? Now 
Cicero spends much time in the proof of this, as the 
hinge on which the first question, and consequently 
the whole cause, depended. For if this was once 
made to appear, the lawfulness of Milo^s killing Clo- 
dius, which was the grand question or thing to be 
proved, might be inferred, as an allowed consequence 
from it. This will be evident, by throwing Milo's 
argument, as used by Cicero, into the form of a syllo- 
gism : 

An assassinator is lawfully killed : 
Clodius was a/i assassinator : 
Therefore he was kttvfully killed by Miloy whoiik 
he assassinated. 

If the minor proposition of this syllogism was grant- 
ed, no one would deny the conclusion ; for the Roman 



328 RHETOUICAL GRAMMAR. 

law allowed of self-defence. But as Cicero was very 
sensible this would not be admitted^ so he takes much 
pains to bring the court into the belief of it Now 
where the argument brought in defence of the second 
question is contested, or the orator supposes that it 
may be so, and therefore supports that with another 
argument, this occasions a third question consequent 
upon the former ; and in like manner he may proceed 
to a fourth. But be they more or fewer, they are to 
be considered but as one chain of subordinate ques- 
tions dependent upon the first. And though each of 
them has its particular state, yet none of these is what 
rhetoricians call The State of the Cause^ which is to 
be understood only of the principal question. And 
if, as it frequently happens, the first or principal ques- 
tion is itself directly proved from more than one ar- 
gument, this makes no other difference, but that all 
of these arguments, so far as they are followed by 
others to support them, become a distinct series of 
subordinate questions, all dependent upon the first 
As when Cicero endeavours to prove, that Roscius did 
not kill his father from two reasons or arguments ; — 
because he had neither any cause to move him to such 
a barbarous action^ nor any opportunity for it. 

Moreover, besides these subordinate questions, 
there are also incidental ones often introduced, which 
have some reference to the principal question, and 
contribute towards the proof of it, though they are 
not necessarily connected with it, or dependent upon 
it. . And each of these also has its Siate^ though dif- 
ferent from that of the Cause. For every question, 
or point of controversy, must be stated, before it can 
be made the subject of disputation. And it is for this 



Kn£TORICAL GRAMMAR. 329 

reason that every new argument advanced by an ora- 
tor is called a question^ because it is considered as a 
fresh matter of controversy. In Cicero's defence of 
Milo we meet with several of this sort of questions^ 
occasioned by some aspersions which had been thrown 
out by the Clodian party to the prejudice of Milo. 
As, That he was unworthy to see the light who owned 
he had killed a man. For Milo before his trial had 
openly confessed he killed Clodius. So likewise^ 
That the senate had declared the killing of Clodius was 
an illegal action. And further, Tliat Pompey, by 
making a new law to settle the manner of MiUPs trials 
had given his judgment against Milo. Now to each 
of these Cicero replies, before he proceeds to the 
principal question. And therefore, though the ques- 
tion^ in which the state of a controversy consists^ is 
said by Quintilian to arise from the first conflict of 
causeSj yet we find by this instance of Cicero, that it 
is not always the first question in order upon which 
the orator treats. 

But it sometimes happens, that the same cause or 
controversy contains in it more than one state. Thus 
in judicial causes every distinct charge occasions a 
new state. All Cicero's orations against Verres re- 
late to one cause, founded upon a law of the Romans 
against unjust exactions made by their governours of 
provinces upon the inhabitant ; but as that prosecu- 
tion is made up of as many charges as there are ora- 
tions, every charge or indictment has its different state. 
So likewise his oration in defence of CgbIius has two 
states, in answer to a double charge made against him 
by his adversaries : one, for borrowing money of Clo- 
ditty in order to biibe certain slaves to kill a foreign 



330 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

embassador ; and the other, for an attempt afterward 
to poison Clodia herself, Besides which there were 
also several other matters of a less heinous nature^ 
which had been thrown upon him by bis accusers, 
with a design^ very likely^ to render the two princi- 
pal charges more credible ; to which Cicero first re- 
plies in the same manner as in his defence of Milo. 

Though all the examples we have hitherto brought 
to illustrate this subject have been taken from judi- 
cial cases, yet not only these but very frequently dis- 
courses of the deliberate kind, and sometimes those 
of the demonstrative, are managed in a controversial 
way. And all controversies have their state. And, 
therefore Quintilian very justly observes, that st^es 
belong both to general and particular questions^ and to 
all sorts of causes^ demonstrative, deliberative, and ju- 
dicial. In Cicero's oration for the Manilian law, this 
is the main point in dispute between him and those 
who opposed that law : Whether Pompey was the fit- 
test person to be intrusted with the management of the 
war against Mithridates ? This is a subject of the de- 
liberative kind. And of the same nature was that de- 
bate in the senate concerning the demoliticn of Car- 
thage. For the matter in dispute between Cato, who 
argued for it, and those who were of the contrary 
opinion, seems to have been this : Whether it wqs for 
the interest of the Romans to demolish Carthage ? 

As to the number of these states, both Cicero and 
%iintilian reduce them to three. I shall i*ecite Qiiin- 
tilian's reason which he gives for this opinion. We 
must, says he; agree with tliose whose authority Cicero 
follows, who tell us that three things may be inquired 
into in all disputes ; whether a thing is, what it it, and 
how it is. And this is the method which nature prescribes. 



BHETOBICAt. ORAMMAR. 331 

flor in the first place it is necessary the thing should ex- 
isty abmit which Ae dispute is : because no judgment 
can be made either of its nature or quality till its exis- 
tence be manifest ; which is therefore the first question. 
But though it be manifest that a thing is^ it does not 
presently appear what it is ; and when this is known^ 
the quality yet remains; and after these three are settled^ 
no further inquiry is necessary. Thus far Q.uintilian« 
Now the first of these three states is called the con- 
jectural state ; as if it be inquired. Whether one persoii 
killed another. This always follows upon the denial of 
a fact by one of the parties, as was the case of Roscius. 
And it receives its name from this, that the judge is 
left, as it were, to conjecture whether the fact wad 
really committed or not, from the evidence produced 
on the other side. The second is called the definitive 
state, when the fact is not denied, but the dispute 
turns upon the nature of it, and what name is proper 
to give it ; as in that example of Cicero : Whether to 
take a sacred thing otit of a private house be theft or 
sacrilege ? For in this case it is necessary to settle 
the distinct notion of these two crimes, and show their 
difference. The third is called the state of quality j when 
the contending parties are agreed both ais to the fact^ 
and the nature of it ; but the dispute is Whether it be 
just or unjust J profitable or unprofitable j and the like : 
as in the cause of Milo. Aristotle, and from him Vos- 
sius, adds a fourth state, namely, of quantity ; as, 
Whether an injury be so great as it is said to be. 
But Qiiintilian thinks this may be referred to some or 
other of the preceding states ; since it depends upon 
the circamstances of the fact, as the intention, time, 
place, or the like. 

42 



339 UHETOEICAL GRAMMAR. 

From ^liat has been said upon this subject, the use 
of it may in a good measure appear. For whoever 
engages in a controyersy ought in the first place ts 
consider with himself the main question in dispute, to 
fix it well in his mind and keep it constantly in his 
view ; without which he will be very liable to ramUe 
from the point, and bewilder both himself and his 
hearers. And it is no less the business of the hearers 
principally to attend to this ; by which means they 
will be helped to distinguish and separate from the 
principal question what is only incidental, and to ob- 
serve how far the principal question is affected by it ; 
to perceive what b offered in proof, and what is only 
brought in for illustration ; not to be misled by digres* 
sions, but to discern when the speaker goes off from 
his subject, and when he returns to it again ; an4 in 
a word, to accompany him though the whole discourse, 
and carry with them the principal chain of reasoning 
upon which the cause depends, so as to judge upoa 
the whole whether he has made out his point, and the 
conclusion follows from the premises. The necessity 
of this is generally the greater in proportion to the length 
of a discourse, however exact and artful the composi- 
tion may be. They, who have read Cicero's orations 
with care, cannot but know, that although they are 
formed in the most beautiful manner, and wrought up 
with the greatest skill, yet the matter of them is oftea 
so copious, the arguments so numerous, the incidents 
either to conciliate or move his audience so frequent, 
and the digressions so agreeable, that without the 
elosest attention it is many times no easy matter to 
keep his main design in view. A constant and fixed 
regard therefore to the state of the cause and principal 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 333 

point in dispute is highly necessary to this end. But 
though rhetoricians treat of these states only as they 
relate to controversies, and become the subject matter 
^f dispute between differing parties, yet every dir- 
course has one or more principal heads, which the 
speaker chiefly proposes to prove or illustrate. And 
therefore what has been said upon this subject nmy 
likewise be considered as proper to be attended to in 
all discourses. 

I have only to add, that hitherto I have treated of 
the nature and use of the three states so far as relates 
to them in general ; a more particular account of them, 
with the arguments which are properly suited to each 
state, will be next considered. 

Of Arguments suited to demonstrative Discourses. 

The general method of deducing arguments from 
Common Places has been already explained. But 
more fully to show the use of this subject, and the as- 
sistance it affords the orator, it may not be improper 
separately to consider the particular heads which are 
more especially suited to the several kinds of dis- 
courses. These are subordinate to the former, and 
spring from them like branches from the same stock, 
or rivulets from a common fountain ; as will evidently 
appear when we come to explain them. 

This is what I propose to enter upon at present, 
and shall begin with those which relate to demonstra- 
tvoe discourses. And as these consist either in praise 
or dispraise, agreeably to the nature of all contraries, 
one of them will serve to illustrate the other. Thus 
de who knows what arguments are proper to prove 



334 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

the excellency of virtue^ and commend it to our es* 
teem^ cannot be much at a ^oss for such as will show 
the odious nature of vice^ and expose it to every one's 
abhorrence ; since they are all taken from the same 
heads^ and directly the reverse of each other. In 
treating therefore upon the topics suited to this kind 
of* discourses, I need only mention those which are 
requisite for praise ; whence such as are proper for 
dispraise will easily enough be discovered. 

Now we praise either persons or things: under 
which division all beings with their properties and 
circumstances may be comprehended^ so as to take in 
whatever belongs either to nature or art. But in each 
part of the division I shall confine my discourse prin- 
cipally to those subjects relating to social life, in which 
oratory is more usually conversant And under the 
former head which respects persons or intelligent be- 
ings, I shall only speak of men. The ancient sophists 
among the Greeks in their laudatory speeches seem 
rather to have studied how to display their own elo- 
quence, than to make them serve any valuable pur- 
poses in life : for their characters were so heightened, 
like poetical images, as suited them more to excite 
wonder and surprise than to become the proper sub- 
jects of imitation. And for this reason Aristotle ex- 
cludes them from the number of civil discourses^ or 
such as relate to the affairs of society. Though if we 
consider the nature rather than the abuse of them, they 
appear to be very proper subjects for an orator, and t» 
come within the main design of his province, which is 
persuasion. For to what purpose can eloquence be 
better employed than to celebrate virtuous persons or 
actions, in such a manner as to excite mankind to 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 335 

their imitation, which is the proper end of such dis- 
courses. And indeed, the panegyrics of the Greeks, 
which were pronounced in the general assemblies of 
their several states, seem to have been designed to re- 
commend virtue by so public a testimony, as appears by 
that of Isocrates in the praise of the Athenians. For as 
to the invectives of Demosthenes against king Philip 
they are rather of the deliberative kind, and so do not 
come under our present consideration, since the orator's 
principal view in those discourses is to animate the 
Athenians in a defence of their liberties by a vigor- 
ous prosecution of the war against king Philip; to 
which end he likewise proposes the fittest methods for 
carrying it on with success. And most of Cicero's 
invectives against Mark Antony may be referred to 
the same kind of discourses. But as it is evident 
from common observation, that ' men are more influ- 
enced by examples than precepts, so the celebrating 
virtue, and exposing vice, from particular instances 
in human life, as patterns to others in what they ought 
to pursue, and what to avoid, has by wise men been 
generally esteemed very serviceable to mankind. 
For which reason.likewise the transmitting to poster- 
ity the lives of great and eminent men has met with 
good acceptance, as a useful and laudable design. 
And therefore the Romans, who were sensible that 
such discourses were not only suited for entertainment 
but might likewise be made very useful to the public, 
did not confine them to the schools of rhetoricians 
and the exercises of young persons : for it was their 
custom, as Quintilian tells us, to have them pronounc- 
ed in public assemblies, even by magistrates, and 
sometimes by an order from the senate. So we read 



S36 RUETORlCAIi GRAMMAR. 

that a funeral oratioa was spoken in honoar of Ximius 
Brutus by - Piiblicola, his colleague in the consulship. 
And a like discourse^ with a statue and public fune- 
ral^ was decreed by the senate to the honour of M.. Jo* 
ventius. Though afterwards we generally find thb 
office performed by some relation. In compliance 
with which custom^ as Suetonius relates^ Augustus, 
when but twelve years of age^ pronounced a funeral 
discourse in praise of his grandmother Julia. And 
Tiberius^ when but nine years old^ paid the like hon- 
our to his deceased father^ as th^ same historian in- 
forms us. And Cicero's invective against Piso^ widi 
his second against Mark Antony, may be referred t^ 
demonstrative discourses, as they respect things that 
were past, and so could not then be subjects for cm- 
sultation. For all praise or dispraise must either 
regard what is past or present. And, generally 
speaking, persons are most affected by present things. 
Indeed the encomiums of ancient herpes, and their 
famous actions, are very entertaining, and afford aa 
agreeable pleasure in the recital ; but such examples 
of virtue, as are still in being, or at least yet fresh ia 
memory, have the greatest influence for imitation. 

But in praising or dispraising personSn rhetoricians 
prescribe two methods. One is, to follow the order 
in which every thing happened that is mentioned ia 
the discourse ; the other is, to reduce what is said 
under certain general heads, without a strict regard 
to tl\e order of time. 

In pursuing the former method, the discourse nay 
be very conveniently divided into three periods. The 
first of which will contain what preceded the person^s 



BHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 3S7 

"birth ; the second, the whole course of his life ; and 
the third, what followed upon his death. 

Under the first of these may be comprehended 
what is proper to be said concerning his country and 
family. And, therefore, if these were honourable, it 
may be said to his advantage, that he no ways dis- 
graced them, but acted suitably to such a descent 
But if they were not so, they may be either wholly 
omitted, or it may be said, that instead of deriving 
thence any advantage to his character, he has confer- 
red a lasting honour upon them ; and that it is not of 
so much moment where or from whom a person de- 
rives his birth, as how he lives. 

In the second period, which is that of his life, the 
qualities both of his mind and body, with his circum- 
stances in the world, may be separately considered. 
Though as Quintilian rightly observes : All external 
advantages are not praised for themselves^ hut accord- 
ing to the use that is made of them. Fdr riches j and 
power, and interest, as they have great influence and 
may be applied either to good or bad purposes, are a 
proof of the temper of our minds, and therefore we are 
either made better or worse by them. But these things 
are a just ground for commendation when they are the 
reward of virtue or industry. Bodily endowments 
are, health, strength, beauty, activity, and the like ; 
which are more or less commendable according as 
they are employed. And where these, or any of them, 
are wanting, it may be shown that they are abundant- 
ly compensated by the more valuable endowments of 
the mind. Nay, sometimes a defect in these may 
^ve an advantageous turn to a person's character, 
for any virtue appears greater in proportion to the dis- 



338 RHBTORIClLr ORAMMAE. 

advantages the person laboured under in exeirtia^ it 
But the chief topics of praise are taken from the vir- 
tues and qualifications of the mind. And here the 
orator may consider the dbposition^ education^ learn- 
ings and several virtues, which shone through the 
whole course of the person's life : in doing which, the 
preference should always be given to virtue above 
knowledge, or any other accomplishment And in ac- 
tions, those are most considerable, and will be heard 
with greatest approbation, which a person either did 
alone, or first, or wherein he had fewest associates ; 
as likewise those which exceeded expectation, or were 
done for the advantage of others, rather than his own. 
And further, as the last scene of a man's life generally 
commands the greatest regard, if any thing remarka- 
ble at that time was either said or done, it ought par- 
ticularly to be mentioned. Nor should the manner of 
his death or cause of it, if accompanied with any cmi- 
mendable circumstances, be omitted ; as if he died in 
the service of his country, or in the pursuit of any 
other laudable design. 

The third and last period relates to what followed 
nfter the death of the person. And here the public 
loss and public honours conferred upon the deceased 
are proper to be mentioned. Sepulchres, statues, 
and other monuments to perpetuate the memory of 
the dead at the expense of the public, were in common 
Use both among the Greeks and Romaiis. But in the 
earliest times, as these honours were more rare, so 
they were less costly : for as in one age it was thought 
a sufElcient reward for him who died in the defence of 
his country to have his name cut in a marble inscrip- 
tion with the cause of his death) so in others it was 



RfiBTOBlCAL GBJUIMAR. 339 

very common to see the statues of gladiators and per- 
sons of the meanest rank erected in public places. 
And therefore a judgment is to be formed of these 
things from the time^ custom^ and circumstances of 
different nations : since the frequency of them renders 
them less honourable^ and takes off from their evidence 
as the rewards of virtue. But^ as Quintilian says : 
Children are an honour to their parents^ cities to their 
founders^ laws to those who compiled thenij arts to their 
inventors^ and i^ejul customs to the authors of them. 

And this may suffice for the method of praising 
persons when we propose to follow the order of time^ 
as Isocrates has done in his funeral onxtion upon Eva- 
goras^ king of Salamis^ and Pliny in his panegyric 
upon the emperor Trajan. But as this method is ve- 
ry plain and obvious, so it requires the more agreea- 
ble dress to render it delightful; lest otherwise it 
seem rather like a history than an oration. For 
 which reason we find that epic poets, as Homer, Vir- 
gil, and others, begin in the middle of their story, and 
afterwards take a proper occasion to introduce what 
preceded, to diversify the subject, and give the great- 
er pleasure and entertainment to their readers. 

The other method above hinted was to reduce the 
discourse to certain general heads, without regarding 
the order of time. As if any one in praising the elder 
Cato should propose to do it by showing that he was 
« most prudent senator, an excellent orator, and most 
valiant general ; all which commendations are given 
him by Pliny. In like manner the characteriof a good 
general may be comprised under four heads,-i— skill in 
military affairs^ courage, jfiuthority, and success ; for 
all which Cicero commends Pompey. And agreeably 

43 



340 UIIETOAICAL GRAMMAR. 

to this method Suetonius has written the lives of the 
first twelve Csasars. 

But in praising persons, care should always be taken 
to say nothing that may seem fictitious or out of char- 
acter^ which may call the orator's judgment or integrity 
in question. It was not without cause therefore^ that 
Lysippus the statuary^ as Plutarch tells us, blamed 
Apelles for painting Alexander the Great with thun- 
der in his hand ; wliich could never suit his character 
as a man, however he might boast of his divine de- 
scent ; for which reason Lysippus himself made an 
image of him holding a spear, as the sign of a warrior. 
Light and trivial things in commendations are like- 
wise to be avoided, and nothing mentioned but what 
may carry in it the idea of something truly valuable, 
and which the hearers may be supposed to wish for, 
and is proper to excite their emulation. These are 
the principal heads of praise with relation to men. 
In dispraise, as was hinted before, the heads contrary 
to these are requisite ; which being sufficiently dear 
from what has been said, need not particularly be 
insisted on. 

I proceed, therefore, to the other part of the divis- 
ion, which respects things as distinguished from per- 
sons. By which we are to understand all beings in- 
ferior to man, whether animate or inanimate ; as like- 
wise the habits and dispositions of men either good 
er bad, when considered separately and apart from 
their. subjects, as arts and sciences, virtues and vices, 
with whatever else may be a proper subject for praise 
or dispraise. Some writers indeed have, for their own 
amusement and the diversion of others, displayed their 
eloquence in a jocose manner upon subjects of this kind, 



RUETOBICAL GBAMMAR. ' 341 

So Lucian has written in praise of ^fiy^ and Synesius, 
an elegant encomium upon baldness. Others^ on the 
contrary^ have done the like in a ^satirical way. 
Such is Seneca^s Apotheosis or consecration of the 
emperor Claudius; and the Mysopogon or Beard- 
hater^ written by Julian the emperor. Not to mention 
several modern authors, who have imitated them in 
such ludicrous compositions. But as to these things^ 
and all of the like nature^ the observation of Antonv 
in Cicero seems very just : That it is not necessary 
to reduce every subject we discourse upon to rules of art. 
For many are so trival as not to deserve it ; and others 
so plain and evident of themselves as not to require it. 
But since it frequently comes in the way both of ora- 
tors and historians, to describe countries^ citi^^ and 
factSj I shall briefly mention the principal heads of in- 
ventioii proper to illustrate each of these. 

Countries then may be celebrated from the pleasant- 
ness of their situation^ the clemency and wholesomeness 
of the air and goodness of the soil, to which last 
may be referred the springs, rivers, woods, plains, 
mountains, and minerals. And to all these may be 
added their extent, cities, the number and antiquity 
of the inhabitants, their policy, laws, customs, wealthy 
character for cultivating the arts both of peace and 
war, their princes, and other eminent men they have 
produced. Thus Pacatus has given us a very ele- 
gant description of Spain, in his panegyric upon the 
emperor Theodosius^ who was bom there. 

Cities are praised from much the same topics as 
countries. And here, whatever contributes either to 
their defence or ornament ought particularly to be 
mentioned ; as the strength of the walls and fortifi^ 



348 RUETOEICAL GBAlfMAR. 

cations^ the beauty aifd splendour of their buildings, 
whether sacred or civil, public or private. We haye 
in Herodotus a very fine description of Babylon, which 
was once the. strongest, largest, and most regular dty 
in the world. And Cicero has accurately described 
the city Syracuse, in the island Sicily, in one of his 
orations against Verres. 

But facts come much oftener under the cognizance of 
an orator : and these receive their commendation from 
their honour, justice, or advantage. But in describing 
them, all the circumstances should be related in their 
proper order, and that in the most lively and affecting 
manner, suited to their different nature. Livy has 
represented the demolition of Alba by the Roman army 
which was sent thither to destroy it, through the whole 
course of that melancholy scene, in a style so movii^ 
and pathetic, that one can hardly forbear condoling 
with the inhabitants upon reading his account. 

But in discourses of this kind, whethel* of praise or 
dispraise, the orator should (as he ought indeed upon 
all occasions) well consider where, and to whom, he 
speaks : for wise men often think very differently both 
of persons and things from the common people. And 
we find that learned and judicious men are frequently 
divided in their sentiments from the several wbjb of 
thinking to which they have been accustomed* Be* 
sides, different opinions prevail and gain the ascend- 
ant at different times. While the Romans continued 
a free nation, love of their country, liberty, and a 
public spirit, were principles in the highest esteem 
among them. And therefore when Calo killed him* / 
self that he might not fall into the hands of Cssar^ 
and survive 1;he liberty of hi^ country, it was thought ' 



RHETORICAL GRAltlCAR* 343 

an instaAM of the greatest heroic virtue ; bat after- 
wards^ when they had been accustomed to an arbitra- 
ry government, and the spirit of liberty was now lost, 
the poet Martial could venture to say, 

Death to avoid 'tis madnesB sore to die. 

A prudent orator therefore will be cautious of oppos- 
ing any settled and prevailing notions of those whom 
he addresses, unless it be necessary ; and then he will 
do it in the softest atid most gentle manner. 

Now if we look back and consider the several heads 
of praise enumerated under each of the subjects above 
mentioned, we shall find they are taken from their 
nature, properties, circumstances, or some other gen- 
eral topic, as was intimated in the beginning of this 
discourse. 

Of Arguments suited to deliberative Discourses. 

This kind of discourses must certainly have been 
very ancient, since doubtless from the first beginning 
of men's conversing together they deliberated upon 
their common interest, and offered their advice to 
each other. 

All deliberation respects something future, for it 
is in vain to consult about what is already past The 
subject matter of it are either things public or private, 
sacred or civil : indeed all the valuable concerns of 
mankind, both present and future, come under its re- 
gard ; and the end proposed by this kind of discours- 
es is chiefly profit or interest. But since nothing is 
truely profitable but what is in some respect good ; 
and every thing which is good in itself may not in all 
circumstances be for our advantage ; properly speak* 



d44 BHETORICAL GRAUMAB. 

ingy what is both good and profitable, of beneficial 
good, is the end h^re designed. And, therefore, as 
it sometimes happens, that what appears profitable 
may seem to interfere with that which is strictly jost 
and honourable, in such cases it is certainly most ad- 
visable to determine on the safer side of honour and 
justice, notwithstanding some plausible things may be 
offered to the contrary. But where the dispute lies 
apparently between what is truly honest* and some 
external advantage proposed in opposition to it, all 
good men cannot but agree in favour of honesty. Now 
when it proves to be a matter of debate whether a 
thing upon the whole be really beneficial or not, as 
here arise two parts, advice and dissuasion, they will 
each require proper heads of argument : but as they 
are contrary to each other, he who is acquainted with 
one cannot well be ignorant of the other. For which 
reason, as in my last discourse, I recited only the top- 
ics suited for praise, leaving those for dispraise to be 
collected from them ; so here, likewise, I shall chiefly 
mention those proper for advice, whence such as are 
suited to dissuade will easily be perceived. Now the 
principal heads of this kind are these following, which 
are taken from the nature and properties of the thing it- 
self under consideration. 

And first, pleasure often affords a very cogent ar- 
gument in discourses of this nature. Every one knows 
what an influence this has upon the generality of man- 
kind. Though, as Quintilian remarks, pleasure ought 
not of itself to be proposed as a fit motive for action in 
serious discourses, but when it is designed to recom- 
mend something useful, which is the case here. So, 
would any one advise another to the pursuit of polite 



/ 



RHETOBlCAL GRAMMAR. 34S 

literature^ Cicero has furnished him with a very strong 
inducement to JLt from the pleasure which attends that 
study when he says : If pleasure otdy was proposed by 
these studiesj you would think them an entertainment 
becoming a man of sense and a gentleman. For other 
pursuits neither agree with all timesj all ages, nor aU 
places ; but these studies improve youth, delight old age^ 
adorn prosperity j afford a refuge and comfort in adver- 
sjUy^ divert us at homCj are no hindrance abroad^ sleeps 
travel^ and retire with us in the country. 

A second head is profit or advantage^ which has 
no kss influence upon many persons than the former^ 
and^ when it respects things truly valuable^ is a very 
just and laudable motive.. Thus Cicero^ when he 
sends his Books of Offices to his son^ which he wrote 
in Latin for his use^ advises him to make the best ad- 
vantage both of his tutor's instructions and the con- 
versation at Athens^ where he then was^ but withal to 
peruse his philosophical treatises^ which would be 
doubly useful to him^ not only upon account of the 
subjects, but likewise of the language, as they would 
enable him to express himself upon those arguments 
in Latin, which before had only been treated of in 
Greek. 

The last head of this kind which I shall mention is 
honour. And no argument will sooner prevail with 
generous minds, or inspire them with greater ardour. 
Virgil has very beautifully described Hector's ghost 
appearing to JBneas, the night Troy was taken,, and 
advising him to depart, from this motive of honour. 

O goddess-born^ escape by timely fligbt 
The flames and horrours of this fatal night. 
The foes already have possessed the wall, 
Troy nods from hi^, and totters to her f«lL 



dl6 RHETORICAL bRABlM AR. 



Enough is pMd to Prian's ToyAl Dame ; 
More than enough to duty and to fame. 
If by a mortal band my fatber's throne 
Could be defeadcd, *twaa by mine alone. 

The argument here made use of to persuade Mntss 
to leave Troy immediately is^ that he had already 
done all that could be expected from him, either as 
a good subject, or brave soldier^ both for his king and 
country, which was sufficient to secure his honour; 
and now there was nothing more to be expected from 
him when the city was falling and impossible to be 
saved ; which, could it hkve been preserved by hu- 
man power, he himself had done. 

But although a thing considered in itself appear 
beneficial if it could be attained, yet the expediency I 
of undertaking it may still be questionable ; in which 
case the following heads, taken from the circumstan- 
ces which attend it, will afford proper arguments to 
engage in it. 

And first the possibility of succeeding may sometimes 
be argued as one motive to this end. So Hannibal 
endeavoured to convince king Antiochus, that it was 
possible for him to conquer the Romans if he made 
Italy the seat of war ; by observing to him, not only 
that the Gauls had formerly destroyed their city, but 
that he had himself defeated them in every battle be 
fought with them in that country. 

But the bare possibility of a thing is seldom a suf- 
ficient motive to undertake it, unless on very urgent 
occasions. And therefore an argument founded upon 
probability will be much more likely to prevail. For, 
in many affairs of human life, men are determined 
either to prosecute them or not, as the prospect of 
success ap pears more or less probable. Hence Cice- 




RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 34? 

ro^ after the fatal battle of Pharsalia^ dissuades those 
of Pompey's party, with whom he was engaged^ from 
continuing the war any longer against CaBsar; be- 
cause it was highly improbable, after such a defeat^ 
by which their main strength was broken^ that they 
should be able to stand their ground^ or meet with 
better success than they had before. 

But further: since probability is not a motive 
strong enough with many persons to engage in the 
prosecution of a thing which is attended with consid- 
erable difficulties^ it is often necessary to represent 
the facility of doing it as a further reason to induce 
them to it. And therefore Cicero makes use of this 
argument to encourage the Roman citizens in oppos- 
ing Mark Antony (who upon the death of CaBsar had 
assumed an arbitary power) by representing to them 
that his circumstances were then desperate^ and that 
he might easily be vanquished. 

Again : if the thing advised to can be shown to be 
in any respect necessary^ this will render the motive 
still much stronger for undertaking it. And therefore 
Cicero joins this argument with the former^ to prevail 
with the Roman citizens to oppose Antony^ by telling 
them, that the consideration before them was not in 
what circumstances they should live, but whether they 
should live at oM, or die with ignominity and disgrace. 
This way of reasoning will sometimes prevail when 
all others prove ineifectuaL For some persons are 
not to be moved till things are brought to an extremity, 
and they find themselves reduced to the utmost dan- 
ger. 

To these heads may be added the consideration of the 
event, which io some cases carries great weight with 

44 



348 RHETOUICAL GUAMMAR. 

it : — M when we advise to the doing of a thing from 
this motive^ that whether it succeed or not it will yet 
he of service to imdertake it So^ after the great 
victory gained by Themistocles over the Persian fleet 
at the straits of Salamis^ Mardonius advised Xerxes 
to return into Asia himself^ lest the report of his 
defeat should occasion an insurrection in his absence ; 
but to leave behind him an army of three hundred thou- 
sand men under his command ; with which if he should 
conquer Greece, the chief glory of the conquest 
would redound to Xerxes ; but, if the design mi^ca^ 
ried, the disgrace would fall upon his generals. 

These are the principal heads which furnish the 
orator with proper arguments in giving advice. Cicero 
in his oration for the Manilian law, where he endeav- 
ours to persuade the Roman people to choose Pompey 
for their general in the Mithridatic war, i*easons from 
three of these topics, into which he divides his whole 
discourse; namely, the necessity of the war, the 
greatness of it, the choice of a proper general. Uoder 
the first of these he shows that the war was necessary 
from four considerations ; the honour of the Roman 
state, the safety of their allies, their own revenues 
and the fortunes of many of their fellow citizens, which^ 
were all highly concerned in it, and called upon then 
to put a stop to the growing power of king Mithrida- 
tes by which they were all greatly endangered. So 
that this argument is taken from the head of necesstig- 
The second, in which he treats of the greatness of th( 
war, is founded upon the topic of possibiliiy* ^^ 
though he shows the power of Mithridates to be very 
great, yet not so formidable but that he might be sub- 
dued; as was evident from the many advantagei l^^' 



BHETORICAL GEAMMAB. 349 

cullus had gained over him and his associates. In 
the third head he endeavours to prevail with them to 
entrust the management of the war in the hands of 
Pompey^ whom he describes as a consummate general 
for his skill in military affairs^ courage^ authority^ and 
success, in all which qualities he represents him as 
superior to any other of their generals whom they 
could at that time make choice of. The design of all 
which was to persuade them they might have very 
good reason to hope for success, and a happy event 
of the war under his conduct. So that the whole 
force of his reasoning under this head is drawn from 
prohability. These are the three general topics which 
make up that fine discourse ; each of which is indeed 
supported by divers other arguments and considera* 
tions, which will be obvious in perusing the oration 
itself, and therefore need not be here enumerated* 
On the contrary, in another oration he endeavours to 
dissuade the senate from consenting to a peace with 
Mark Antony, because it was base, dangerous^ and 
impracticable. 

But no small skill and address are required in giv- 
ing advice. For, since the tempers and sentiments 
of mankind, as well as their circumstances, are very 
different and various, it is often necessary to accommo- 
date the discourse to their inclinations and opinions 
of things : and therefore the weightiest arguments are 
net always the most proper and the fittest to be used 
en all occasions. Cicero, who was an admirable mas- 
ter of this art, and knew perfectly v^ell bow to suit 
what he said to the taste and relish of his hearers, in 
treating upon this subject, distinguishes mankind into 
two sorts— the ignorant and unpolished, who always 



350 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

prefer profit to honour ; and such as are more civil- 
ized and polite^ who prefer honour and reputation to 
all other things. Wherefore they are to be moved 
by these different views : praise, glory, and virtue, 
influence the one : while the other is only to be en- 
gaged by a prospect of gain and pleasure. Besides, 
it is plain, that the generality of mankind are much 
more inclined to avoid evils than to pursue what is 
good, and to keep clear of scandal and disgrace than 
to practise what is truly generous and noble. Persons 
likewise of a different age act from different princi- 
ples ; young men for the most part view things in an- 
other light from those who are older and have had 
more experience, and consequently are not to be in- 
fluenced from the same motives. Every nation also 
has its particular customs, manners, and polity, which 
give a different turn to the genius of the inhabitants. 
The speech of Alexander, made to his soldiers before 
he engaged the Persians, as we have it in Curtius, is 
finely wrought up in this respect. For, as his army 
was composed of different nations, the parts of his 
discourse are admirably well suited to their several 
views in prosecuting the war. He reminds his coun- 
trymen, the Macedonians, of their former victories in 
Europe ; and tells them, that Persia is not to be the 
boundary of their conquest, but they are to extend 
them further than either Hercules or Bacchus had 
done : that Bactra and the Indies would be theirs, 
and that what they saw was but a small part of what 
they were to possess : that neither the rocks of lUy^ 
iuni, nor the mountains of Thrace, but the spoils of 
the whole East were now before them : that the con- 
quest would be so easy they would scarce have occa- 



' RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 351 

aion to draw their swords, but they might push the 
enemy with their bucklers. Then he reminds them 
of their subduing the Athenians under his father 
Philip, and the late conquest of Boeotia, the victory 
at the river Granicus, and the many cities and coun- 
tries now behind them and under their subjection. 
When he addresses the Greeks, he tells them, they 
are now going to engage with those that had been the 
enemies of their country, first by the insolence ofDa^ 
rius, and afterwards of Xerxes, who would ha^ d^ 
prived them even of the necessaries of life, who de- 
stroyed their temples, demolished their towns, and 
violated both their sacred and civil rights. And then 
directing his discourse to the Illyrians and Thracians, 
who were accustomed to live by plunder, he encour- 
aged them with the prospect of booty from the rich 
armour and furniture of the Persians, which they 
might be masters of with the greatest ease ; and tells 
them, they would now exchange their barren mountains 
and snowy hills for the fertile country and fields of 
Persia. / 

Of Arguments suited to judicial Discourses. 

In judicial controversies theTe are two parties, the 
plaintiff or prosecutor, and the defendant or person 
charged. The subject of them is always something 
past. And the end proposed by them Cicero calls 
equity, or right and equity ; the former of which arises 
from the laws of the country, and the latter from rea- 
son and the nature of things. For at Rome the prae- 
tors had a court of equity, and were empowered, in 
many cases relating to property, to relax the rigour 



352 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

of the written laws. But as this subject is very copi- 
ous, and causes may arise from a great variety of 
things^ writers have reduced them to three heads, 
which they call states, to some one of which all judicUA 
proceedings may be referred ; namely^ whether a thing 
isj what it is, or how it is. By the state of a cause 
therefore is meant the principal question in dispute^ 
upon which the whole aifair depends ; which, if it 
jstops in the first inquiry, and the defendant denies 
the fact, the state is called conjectural ; but if the fact 
be acknowledged, and yet denied to be what the ad- 
versary calls it, it is termed definitive ; but if there 
is no dispute either about the fact or its name^ bat 
only the justice of it, it is called the state of qttaliiy; 
as was shown more largely before. But I then con- 
sidered these states only in a general view, and defer- 
red the particular heads of argument proper for each 
of them to this judicial kind of discourses ; where they 
most frequently occur, and from which examples may 
easily be accommodated to other subjects. And thi» 
is what I am now particularly to treat of. 

All judicial causes are either private or pubUc 
They are called private^ which relate to the right of 
particular persons ; and they are likewise called dvU 
causes, as they are conversant about matters of prop- 
erty. Public causes are those which relate to public 
justice and the government of the state ; which are 
also called aiminalf because by them crimes are prose- 
cuted, whether capital or those of a less heinous na- 
ture. I shall take the heads of the arguments only 
from this latter kind, because they are more copious 
and easy to be illustrated by examples : from which 



RHETORICAL GRAKMAR. 353 

such as agree to the foraier, namely, civil causes^ will 
sufficiently appear. 

And I shall begin with the conjectural state^ which 
comes first in the order of inquiry. When therefore 
the accused person denies ^1^ fact, there are three 
things which the prosecutor has to consider : Wheth- 
er he would have done it, whether he could, and 
whether he did it. And hence arise three topics; 
from the WtU, the Powers and the SignSy or circum- 
stances which attended the action. The affections of 
the mind discover the WUl ;^.aSf passion, an old 
grudge, a desire of revenge, a resentment of an injury, 
and the like. Therefore Cicero argues from Clodius's 
hatred of Milo, that he designed his death, and thence 
infers that he was the aggressor in the combat between 
them, wherein Clodius was killed. This is what he 
principally endeavours to prove, and comes properly 
under this state : for Milo owned that he killed him, 
but alleged that he did it in his own defence. So that 
in regard to this point, which of them assaulted the 
other, the charge was mutual. The prospect of ad- 
vantage may also be alleged to the same purpose. 
Hence it is said of L. Cassius, that whenever he sat 
as judge in a case of murder, he used to advise and 
move the court to examine to whom the advantage 
arose from the death of the deceased. And Cicero 
puts this to Antony concerning the death of C»sar. 
If any one, says he, should bring you upon trials and 
use that saying of Cassius^ cui bono ? who got by it? 
look to ity I beseech you, that you are not confounded. 
To these arguments may be added hope of impunity^ 
taken either from the circumstances of the accused 
person, or of him who suffered the injury. ' For per- 



354 llHETpKICAL GRAMMAR. 

sons who have the advantage of interest^ friends^ pow- 
er, or money, are apt to think they may easily es- 
cape ; as likewise such who have formerly committed 
other crimes with impunity. Thus Cicero represents 
Glodius as hardened iu vice, and above all the restraint 
of laws, from liaving so often escaped punishment up* 
on committing the highest crimes. On the contrary, 
such a confidence is sometimes raised from the condi- 
tion of the injured party, if he is indigent, obscure, 
timorous, or destitute of friends ; much more if he 
has an ill reputation, or is loaded with popular hatred 
and resentment. It was this presumption of the ob- 
scurity of Roscius, who lived in the country, and of 
his want of interest at Rome, which encouraged his 
accusers to charge him with killing his father, as Cic- 
ero shows in his defence of him. Lastly, the temper 
of a person, his views, and manner of life, are con- 
siderations of great moment in this matter. For per. 
sons of bad morals, and such as are addicted to vice, 
are easily thought capable of committing any wicked- 
ness. Hence Sallust argues from the evil disposition 
and vicious life of Catiline, that he affected to raise 
himself upon the ruins of his country. The second 
head is the power of doing a thing; and there are 
three things which relate to this, the ptace^ the lune, 
and opportunity. As, if a crime is said to have been com- 
mitted in a private place where no other person was 
present; or in the night; or when the injured person 
was unable to provide for his defence. Under this 
head may likewise be brought in the circumstances of 
the persons ; as if the accused person was stronger^ 
and so able to overpower the other ; or more active, 
and so could easily make his escape. Cicero makes 



IIHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 355 

great use' of this topic in the case of Milo^ and shows 
that Clodius had all the adviantages of place, timCj 
and opportunity, to execute his design of killing him. 
The third head are the signs, and circumstances which 
either preceded^ accompanied^ or followed the com- 
mission of the fact. So threats^ or the accused person 
being seen at or near the place before the fact was 
committed^ are circumstances that may probably pre- 
cede murder; fighting, crying out, bloodshed^ are 
such as accompany it ; paleness, trembling, inconsis- 
tent answers, hesitation, or faltering of speech, some- 
thing found upon the person accused which belonged to 
the deceased, are as such as follow. Thus Cicero 
proves that Clodius had threatened the death of Milo^ 
and given out that he should not live above three days 
at the furthest. These arguments, taken from con- 
jectures, are called presumptions y which, though they 
do not directly prove that the accused person commit- 
ted the fact with which he is charged, yet when being 
laid together they appeared very strong, sentence by 
the Roman law might sometimes be given upon them 
to convict him. 

These' are the topics from which the prosecutor 
takes his arguments. Now the business of the defend- 
ant is to invalidate these. Therefore such as are 
brought from the imT/, he either endeavours to show are 
not true, or so weak as to merit very little regard. And 
he refutes those taken from the power, by proving that 
he wanted either opportunity or ability : as, if he can ^ 
show that neither the place nor time, insisted on, was 
at all proper^ or that he was then in another place. 
In like manner he will endeavour to confute the cir* 
€umstan4:es, if they cannot directly be denied^ by show- 

45 



356 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 

ing that they are not such as do necessarily accom- 
pany the fact, but might have proceeded from other 
causes, though nothing of what is alleged had been 
committed ; and it will be of great service to assign 
some other probable cause. But sometimes the de- 
fendant does not only deny that he did the fact, but 
charges it upon another. Thus Cicero, in his oration 
for Roscius, not only defends him from each of these 
three heads, but likewise charges the fact upon his ac- 
cusers. 

I come now to the definitive state, which is princi- 
pally concerned in defining and fixing the name prop- 
er to the fact. Though orators seldom make use of 
exact definitions, but commonly choose larger descrip- 
tions, taken from various properties of the subject or 
thing described. 

The heads of argument in this state are much the 
same to both parties. For each of them defines the 
fact his own way, and endeavours to refute the other's 
definition. We may illustrate this by an example 
from Qijintilian : A person is accused of socrilege^ for 
stealing money out of a temple^ which belonged to a pri- 
vate person. The fact is owned, but the question is. 
Whether it be properly sacrilege? The prosecutor 
calls it so, because it was taken out of a temple. But 
since the money belonged to a private person, the de- 
fendant denies it to be sacrilege, and says it is only 
simple theft. Now the reason why the defendant 
uses this plea, and insists upon the distinction, is, be- 
cause by the Roman law the penalty of the theft was 
only four times the value of what was stolen ; where- 
as sacrilege was punished with death. The prosecu- 
tor then forms his definition agreeably to his charge, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 357 

and says : To steal any thing out of a sacred place is 
siMcrilege. But the defendaut excepts against this de- 
finition as defective; and urges that it does not 
amount to sacrilege unless the thing stolen was like- 
wise sacred. And this case might once perhaps have 
been a matter of controversy^ since we find it express- 
ly determined in the Pandects, that, An action of sac- 
rilege should not lie, but only of tlieft, against any who 
should steed the goods of private persons deposited in a 
temple. 

The second thing is the proof brought by each par- 
ty to support his definition, as in the example given 
us by Cicero, of one, who carried his cause by bribery, 
and was cfterwards prosecuted again upon an action of 
prevarication* Now if the defendant was cast upon 
this action, he was by the Roman law subjected to the 
penalty of the former prosecution. Here the prose- 
cutor defines prevarication to be, any bribery or cor- 
ruption in the defendant, with a design to pervert jus- 
tice. The defendant therefore, on the other hand, 
restrains it to bribing only the prosecutor^ 

And if this latter sense agree better with the com- 
mon acceptation of the word, the prosecutor in the 
third place pleads the intention of the law,' which was 
to comprehend all bribery in judicial matters under 
the term of prevarication. In answer to which the de- 
fendant endeavours to show, either from the head of 
contrliries, that a real prosecutor and a prevaricator 
are used as opposite terms in the law, or from the 
etymology of the word, that a prevaricator denotes 
one who pretends to appear in the prosecution of a 
cause, while in reality he favours the contrary side ; 
and consequently that money given for this end only, 
can, in the sense of the law, be called prevarication. 



358 RHETOEICAL GRAMMAR. 

Lastly, the prosecutor pleads, tt is unreasonable 
that he, who does not deny the fact, should escape 
by a cavil about a word. But the defendant insbts 
upon his explication, as agreeable to the law, and 
says the fact is misrepresented and blackened by 
affixing to it a wrong name. 

The third state is that of quality^ in which the db- 
pute turns upon the justice of an action. And hew 
the defendant does not deny he did the thing he is 
charged with, but asserts it to be right and equitable, 
from the circumstances of the case, and the motives 
which induced him to it. 

And first, he sometimes alleges the reason of doing 
it was in order to prevent some other thing of worse 
consequence, which would otherwise have happened. 
We have an. instance of this in the life of Epaminon- 
das, who, with two other generals joined in the com- 
mand with him, marched the Theban army into Pe- 
loponnesus against the Lacedaemonians ; but by the 
influence of a contrary faction at home their commis- 
sions were superseded, and other generals sent to 
command the army. But Epaminondas, being sensible 
that if he obeyed this order at that time it would be 
attended with the loss of the whole army, and conse- 
quently the ruin of the state, refused to do it ; and 
having persuaded the other generals to do the like, 
they happily finished the war in which they were en- 
gaged ; and upon their return home, Epaminondas 
taking the whole matter upon himself, on his trial was 
acquitted. The arguments proper in this case are 
taken from the justice, usefulness, or necessity of the 
action. The accuser therefore will plead, that the 
fact was not just, profitable, nor necessary, considered 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 359 

either in itself^ or comparatively with that for the 
sake of which it is said to have been done. And he 
will endeavour to show^ that what the defendant as- 
signs for the reason of what he did^ might not have 
happened as he pretends. Besides, he will represent 
of what ill consequence it must be, if such crimes go 
unpunished. The defendant, on the other hand, will 
argue from the same heads, and endeavour to prove 
the fact was just, useful, or necessary. And he will 
further urge, that no just estimate can be made of any 
action but from the circumstances which attend it ; as 
the design, occasion, and motives for doing it ; which 
he will represent in the most favourable light to his 
own cause, and endeavour to set them in such a view 
as to induce others to think they could not but have 
done the same in the like circumstances. 

Again ; the cause of an action is sometimes charg- 
ed by the defendant upon the party who received the 
damage, or some other person who either made it 
necessary, or enjoined him to do it The first of 
these was Mild^s plea for killing Clodius, because he 
assaulted him with a design to take away his life. 
Here the fact is not denied as in the case of Roscius 
above mentioned, under the conjectural staie^ but jus- 
tified from the reason of doing it. For that an as- 
sassinator might justly be killed, Cicero shows both 
from law and reason. The accuser therefore in such 
a case will, if there be room for it, deny the truth of 
this allegation. So the friends of Clodius affirmed 
that Milo was the aggressor, and not Clodius ; which 
Cicero^ in his defence of Milo, principally labours to 
refute. In the second case the prosecutor will say, 
no one ought to offend because another has offended 



360 UHBTORICAL ORAMHAB. 

first ; which defeats the course of public justice, ren- 
ders the laws useless, and destroys the authority of 
the magistrate^ The defendant, on the other hand, 
will endeavour to represent the danger and necessity 
of the case, which required an immediate remedy, and 
in that manner ; and urges that it was vain and im- 
practicable to wait for redress in the ordinary way, 
and therefore no ill consequence can arise to the public. 
Thus Cicero in defending Sextius, who was prosecut- 
ed for a riot, in bringing armed men into the forun, 
shows that his design was only to repel force with 
force ; which was then necessary, there being no other 
means left for the people to assemble, who were ex- 
cluded by a mob of the contrary party. Of the third 
case we have also an example in Cicero, who tells us, 
that, in making a league between the Romans (md 
SamniteSy a certain young nobleman was ordered by the 
Roman general to hold the swine (designed for a sacri- 
fice ;) but the senate afterwards disapproving the terms, 
and delivering up their general to the Samnites^ ii was 
moved ^ whether this young man ought not Ukeioise to begi$h 
en up. Those who were for it might say, that to allege 
the command of another is not a sufficient plea for doing 
an ill action. And this is what the Roman law now 
expressly declares. But in answer to that it might be 
replied ; that it was his duty to obey the command of 
his general, who was answerable for his own orders, 
and not those who were obliged to execute them ; and 
therefore to give up this young nobleman would be to 
punish one person for the fault of another. Lastly, 
a fact is sometimes rather excused than defended, by 
pleading that it was not done designedly, or with any 
ill intent. This is called concession, and contains two 



\ 



i 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 361 

parts^ apology y and entreaty. The former represents 
the matter as the effect of inadvertency^ chance or ne- 
cessity. Aristotle gives us an example of inadverten- 
cy or imprudence in ^ woman at Athens^ who gave a 
young man a love portion which killed him ; for which 
she was tried^ but acquitted. Though afterwards this 
was made criminal by the Roman law. The case of 
Adrastus, as related by Herodotus^ is an instance of 
chance; who being intrusted by Croesus with the care of 
his son^ as they were hunting, killed him accidentally 
with a javelin which he threw at a boar. It is necessi- , 
ty^ when a person excuses his making a default from 
stress of weather, sickness, or the like. Thus Cicero 
pleaded his illness, contracted by the fatigue of a long 
journey, as an excuse for not appearing in the senate 
upon the summons of Mark Antony ; who threatened 
to oblige him to it by pulling his house down. But 
what the defendant here attributes to inadvertency, 
chance, or necessity, the opposite party will attribute 
to design, negligence, or some other culpable reason ; 
and represent it as a matter injurious to the public to 
introduce such precedents ; and also produce instan- 
ces, if that can be done, were the like excuses have 
not been admitted. On the other hand, the defend- 
ant will insist on his innocence, and show the hard- 
ship and severity of judging men's actions rather 
by the event than from the intention : that such a 
procedure makes no difference between the innocent 
and the guilty, but must necessarily involve many 
honest men in ruin and destruction, discourage all 
virtuous and generous designs, and turn greatly to the 
prejudice of human society. He will also consider 
the instances alleged by the accuser, and show the 



362 RUETOBICAL GRAMMAR* 

difference between them and his own case. And; 
lastly^ he will have recourse to entreaty, or a suWn- 
sive address to the equity and demency of the court 
or party offended, for pardon ; as Cicero has done ia 
hils oration to Caesar, in favour of Ligarius. 

These instances are sufficient to show the nature of 
the arguments suited to judicial discourses, which are 
deduced from a variety of the general topics. 

Of the Character and Address of an Orator. 

Having in several discourses considered and ex- 
plained the first part of invention^ which famishes 
the orator with such arguments as are necessary for 
the proof of his subject, I am next to show what are 
the proper means to conciliate the minds of his hea^ 
ers, to gain their affection, and to recommend both 
himself and what he says to their good opinion aad 
esteem. For the parts of invention are comroonlf 
thus distinguished ; that the first respects the sulked 
of the discourse, the second the speaker, and the third 
the hearers. Now the second of these, which is what 
I am at present to explain, is by Qiiintilian called a 
propriety of manners. And in order to express this, 
it is necessary, as he tells us, that every thing app^ 
easy and natural^ and the disposition of the speaker k 
discovered by his words. We may form an easy con- 
ception of this from the conduct of such persons who 
are most nearly concerned in^each other's welfare 
As when relations or friends converse together upon 
any affairs of importance, the temper and disposition 
of the speaker plainly shows itself by his words and 
manner of address. And what nature here directs to 



RHSTOBICAL. GRAMMAR, 363 

without eolouring or disgoise, the orator is to endeav- 
our to perlbrm by his art. Though^ indeed, if what 
a person says he inconsistent with his usual conduct 
and behaviour at other times, he cannot expect it 
should gain much credit, or make any deep impres- 
sion upon his hearers : which may be one reason 
why the ancient rhetoricians make it so necessary 
a qualification in an orator, that he be a good man ; 
since he should always be consistent with himself, and, 
as we say, talk in character. And therefore it is 
highly requisite, that he should not only gain the skill 
of assuming those qualities, which the nature and cir- 
cumstances of his discourse require him to express, 
hut, likewise, that he should use his utmost endeav- 
ours to get the real habits implanted in his mind : for 
as by this means they will be always expressed with 
greater ease and facility, so, by appearing constantly 
in the course of his life, they will have more weight 
and influence upon particular occasions. 

Now there are four qualities more especially suited 
to the character of an orator, which should always ap- 
pear in his discourses, in order to render what he says 
acceptable to his hearers; and these are^ tmsdom^ 
integrity^ benevolence^ and modesty. 

Wisdom is necessary, because we easily give in to 
the opinion of those whom we esteem wiser and more 
knowing than ourselves. Knowledge is very agreea- 
ble and pleasant to all, but few make very great im- 
provements in it. Such, therefore, who either cannot 
or do not care to give themselves the trouble of ex- 
amining into things themselves, must take up with the 
representation of others ; and it is an ease to them 
to hear the opinion of persons whom they esteem wi^- 

46 



364 RUBTORICAL GUAMMAH. 

er than themselves. No one loves to be deceived ; 
and such who are fearful of being misled are pleased 
to meet with a {person in whose wisdom^ as they think, 
they can safely trust. The character of wisdom, 
therefore, is of great service to an orator, since the 
greater part of mankind are swayed by authority rath- 
er than ai^guments. 

But this of itself is not sufficient, unless the opinion 
of integrity be joined with it. Nay, so far from it, 
that the greater knowledge and understanding a man 
is supposed to have, unless he likewise have the char- 
acter of an honest man, he is often the more suspect- 
ed. For knowledge without honesty is generally 
thought to dispose a person, as well as qualify him to 
deceive. Quintilian, in treating upon narration^ has 
a very remarkable passage to this purpose, which I 
shall here transcribe. / must not omiij says he, how 
much the authority of the speaker gives credit to . what 
he relates^ which is to he gained principally by his U/ij 
and partly from his manner of speaking. And what 
QjLiintilian observes here with respect to narration^ the 
best writers all recommend as necessary through the 
whole conduct of an orator. 

And to both these qualities the appearance of kind- 
ness and benevolence should likewise be added. For 
though a person have the reputation of wisdom and 
honesty, yet if we apprehend he is either not well 
affected to us, or at least regardless of our interest, 
we are in many cases apt to be jealous of him. Man- 
kind are naturally swayed by their affections, and 
much influenced through love or friendship; and 
therefore nothing has a greater tendency to induce 
persons to credit what is said, than intimations of af- 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 365 

fection and kindness. The best orators have been al* 
ways sensible what great influence the expressions of 
kindness and benevolence have upon the minds of 
others, to induce them to believe the truth of what 
they say; and therefore they frequently endeavour 
to impress them with the opinion of it. Thus Demos- 
thenes begins his celebrated oration for Otesiphon : 
It is my hearty prayer, says he, to all the deities, that 
this my defence may be received by you witii the same 
affection which I have always expressed for you and 
your city. And it is a very fine image of it which we 
have in Cicero^ where^ in order to influence the judges 
in favour of Milo^ he introduces him speaking thus^ 
as became a brave man^ and a patriot^ even upon the 
supposition he should ^be condemned by them: Ibid 
my fellow citizens adieu ; may they continue flourishing 
and prosperous ! may this famous city be preserved, my 
most dear country, however it has treated me ! may my 
fellow citizens enjoy peace and tranquillity without me, 
since I am ftot to enjoy it with them, though I have pro- 
cured it for them ! I wiU withdraw, I will be gone* 

The fourth and last quality above mentioned^ as 
necessary to the charjacter of an orator^ is modesty. 
And it is certain^ that what is modestly spoken is gen- 
erally better received than what carries in it an air of 
boldness and confidence. Most persons^ though igno* 
rant of a thing, do not care to be thought so, and 
would have some deference paid to their understand* 
ing. But he who delivers himself in an arrogant and 
assuming way seems to upbraid his hearers with igno- 
rance, while he does not leave them to judge for them* 
selves, but dictates to them, and, as it were, demands 
their assent to what he says ; which is certainly a ve- 



366 BHETORtCAli C»tAMkAR. 

ty improper method to \?iii upon them. For not s 
few, when convinced of an error in such a way, wffl 
not own it, but will rather adhere to their fbroier 
opinion than seem forced to think right, when itf^Ms 
another the opportunity of a triumph. A prudent on* 
tor, therefore, will behave himself with modesty, that 
he may not seem 16 insult his hearers ; and will set 
things before them in such an engaging manner as may 
remove all prejudice, either from his person, or what 
he asserts. But, at the same time, firmness and reso- 
lution are as necessary as modesty, that he may ap- 
pear to confide in the justice and truth of his cause. 
For to speak timorously, and with hesitation, destroys 
the credit of what is offered ; and so far as tlie speak- 
er seems to distrust what he says himself, he often in- 
duces others to do the like. 

But, as has been said already, great care is to be 
taken that these characters do not appear feigned and 
counterfeit. For what is fictitious can seldom be long 
concealed. And if this be once discovered, it makes 
all that is said suspected, however specious it may 
otherwise appear. If men always loved truth for its 
own excellency, it would be sufficient to propose it 
clearly and {ilainly ; nor would the as^tance of art 
be necessary, in order to induce them to embrace it. 
But it frequently happens, that truth clashes with 
what men account their interest, and for that reason 
they will not regard it. An ungrateful truth VFill 
either not be heard, or soon discarded. And many 
times where persons cannot contradict what is ^fered, 
yet, if that contradict their settled opinions, they will 
still suppose it may not be true. Nor is it a difficolt 
thing for persons to bring themselves to such a belief, 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 367 

they forbear calmly and seriously to eonsider 
the arguments offered on the other side. And since 
inatters are thus^ it is often necessary for the orator to 
haTC recourse to art^ in ord^r to obtain that n^hich 
otherwise he cannot come at. For this purpose^ there- 
fore^ it is very serviceable to accommodate his dis- 
course to the temper and inclination of his audience. 
Nor indeed can any one reasonably hope to succeed 
in this province without well considering the circum- 
stances of time and place^ with the sentiments and dis^ 
positions of those to whom he speaks ; which^ accord- 
ing to Aristotle^ may be distinguished four ways^ as 
they discover themselves by the several affectiotUy 
habits^ agesj and fortunes of mankind. And each of 
these requires a different conduct and manner of address. 

The affections denote certain emotions of the mind^ 
which^ during their continuance^ give a great turn to 
the disposition. For love prompts to one thing, and 
hatred to another. The like may be said of anger^ 
lenity^ and the rest of them : as I shall show^ when I 
come to treat of them particulariy. 

Persons differ likewise according to the various 
JuAits of their mind. So a just man is inclined one 
way^ and an unjust man another ; a temperate man to 
this, and an intemperate man to the contrary. 

And as to the several ages of men^ Aristotle has 
described them very accurately, and how persons are 
differently affected in each of them. I shall content 
myself with the substance of what he says, to prevent 
lieing tedious. He divides the lives of men, consider- 
ed as hearers, into three stages ; — youth, middle age, 
and old age. Young men, he says, have generally 
strong passions, and are very eager to obtain what 



368 RHETORICAL •RAtfMAR^ 

they desire : but are likewise very mutable^ sd that 
the same thing does not please them long* They 
are ambitious of praisey and quick in their rese&fc* 
ments ; lavish of their money^ as not having experi- 
enced the want of it : frank and open, because they 
have not often been deceived ; and credulous for the 
same reason. They readily hope the best, beeause 
they have not suffered much, and are therefore not so 
sensible of the uncertainty of human affairs ; for which 
reason they are likewise more easily deceived. They 
are modest from their little acquaintance with the 
world. They jove company and cheerfulness, from 
the briskness of their spirits ; and think well of their 
friends. They imagine they know more th^n they do, 
and for that reason are apt to be too positive. In a 
word, they generally exceed in what they do, love 
violently, hate violently, and act in the same manner 
through the rest of their conduct. 

The disposition of old men is generally contrary to 
the former. They are cautious, and enter upon noth- 
ing hastily ; having in the course of many years been 
often imposed upon, having often erred, and experi- 
enced the prevailing corruption of human affairs; 
for which reason they are likewise suspicious^ and 
moderate in their affections, either of love or hatred. 
They pursue nothing great and noble, and regard on- 
ly the necessaries of life. They love money, having 
learnt by experience the difficulty of getting it, and 
how easily it is lost. They are fearful, which makes 
them provident — commonly full of complaints from 
bodily infirmities, and a deficiency of spirits — ^please 
themselves rather with the memory of what is past 
than any future prospect, having so short a view of 






RHETORICAL ORAICM AR. 36& 

life before tbein^ in comparison of what is already 
gone ; for which reason also they love to talk of things 
past, and prefer them to what is present^ of which 
they have but little relish^ and know they must short- 
ly leave them. They are soon angry^ but not to ex- 
cess. Lastly^ they are compassionate^ from a sense 
of their own infirmities^ which makes them think them- 
selves of all persons most exposed. 

Persons of a middle age^ betwixt these two extremes^ 
as they are freed from the rashness and temerity of 
youth) so they have not yet suffered the decays of old 
age. Hence in every thing they generally observe a 
better conduct They are neither so hasty in their 
assent as the one^ nor so minutely scrupulous as the 
other^ but weigh the reasons of things. They regard 
a decency in their actions, are careful and industrious ; 
and, as they undertake what appears just and lauda- 
ble upon better and more deliberate consideration than 
young persons^ so they pursue them with more vigor 
and resolution than those who are older. 

As to the different fortunes of mankind, they may 
be considered as noble, rich, or powerful ; and the 
contrary to these. Those of high birth, and noble 
extraction^ are generally very tender of their honour, 
and ambitipus to increase it ; it being natural for all 
persons to desire an addition to those advantages, of 
which they find themselves already possessed^ And 
they are apt to consider all others as much their'infe- 
riors, and therefor^ expect great regard and deference 
should be shown them* Riches, when accompanied 
with a generous temper^' 09mmaijd respect from the 

« 

opportunities they give of beingmscful to. others ; but 
they usually elate the mind, and occasion pride. For 



370 &HCTORICAL GRAMMAR. 

as money is commonly said to command idl tlui^piy 
those who are possessed of a large share of it expect 
others should be at their beck ; since they enjoy that 
which all desire^ and most persons make the main 
pursuit of their lives to obtain. But nothing is more 
apt to swell the mind than power. This is what all 
men naturally covet^ even when perhaps they would 
not use it. But the views of such persons are gene- 
rally more noble and generous than of those who only 
pursue riches^ and the heaping up of money. A state 
contrary to these gives a contrary turn of mind ; add, 
in lower life, persons' dispositions usually differ ac- 
cording to their stations and circumstances. A citizen 
and a courtier, a merchant and a soldier, a scholar 
and a peasant, as their pursuits are different, so is gen- 
erally their turn and disposition of mind. 

It is the orator's business, therefore, to consider 
these several characters and circumstances of life, witk 
the different bias and way of thinking they give to 
the mind ; that he may so conduct himself in his be- 
haviour and manner of speaking, as will render him 
most acceptable, and gain him the good esteem of 

those whom he addresses. 

» 

Of tlie Passions. 

.The third and last part of rhetorical invention re- 
lates to the passions^ of which I am^now to discourse. 
And as it is often highly necessary for the orator, so 
it requires his greatest skill to /engage these in his in- 
terest. Qjuintilian calls thi3, Tlie soul and spirit of 
his art And, doubtless, nothing jnore discovers its 
empire over the minds of men than this power to ex- 



RRBTORtCAL GRAMMAR. 



571 



W- 



.^.«it«, appeose, and sway their passions, agreeably to 
; the design of the speaker. Hence we meet with the 
- charii^ifi^ of admirable^ divinej and other splendid ti- 
1 ties ^jT^d to eloquence by ancient writers. There 
' is nothing great or noble to he performed in life, 
wherwn^ the passions are not concerned. The stoics, 
therelprfeic who were for eradicating the passions, both 
main|lil3^ a thing in itself impossible; and which, 
if it l^asr possible, would be of the greatest prejudice 
K to mi^'nkind. For while they appeared such zealous 
; asseriers of the government of reason, they scarce left 
it any/^ing to govern ; for the authority of reason 
is prf^'pally exercised in ruling and moderating the 
passi^^, which, when kept in a due regulation, are 
s and motives to virtue. Thus hope pro- 
jEttience, and fear industry, and the like might 
of the rest. The passions, therefore, are 
ii extirpated, as the stoics asserted, but put . 
direction and conduct of reason. Indeed, * 
y are ungovernable, and, instead of obeying, 
they are, as some have fitly called them, 
tJie mind, and frequently hurry men into 
^'t^e greatest misfoftnnes of life. Just as the 
it bl^^s .moderately,^ eanries on the ship ; 
e too^'-^iSsterous and violent, may overset 
charge, therefore, brought against this art, 
1i^ rules to influence ^the passions,' appears 
" i^ and unjust; since the proper use of the 
^s not to hinder the exercise of reason, but 
^.men to act agreeably to reason : acid if an 
Sometimes made of this, it is not the fault of 
ut of the artist. So moralists explain the 
nature both of virtues and vices, that men may know 

47 



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V 



372 RHETOKICAL GRAMMAR. 

better how to practbe one^ and avoid the other ; bat 
if their precepts happen to have a different efiSect^ 
they are not answerable for that. 

But that an orator may be enabled to manage this 
part of his province to the best advantage^ it is neces- 
sary he should, in some measure, be acquainted with 
the nature, causes, and objects of the passions. Noir 
the passions, as defined by Aristotle, are, Commotions 
of the mind, under the influence of which men think 
differently concerning the same things. Thus a thing 
appears good to him who desires it ; though it may 
not appear so to another, or to the same person at a 
different time. Writers are not agreed as to the num- 
ber of the passions. But I shall wave this dispute^ 
as the more proper business of philosophy, and only 
consider them as they come under the cognizance of 
the orator. And that I may proceed in some order, 
I shall treat of them as they may be separately refer- 
red, either to demonstrcUive, deliberative^ or judicial 
discourses ; though they are not wholly confined to 
any of them. 

To the demonstrative kind we 'may ref^^m* and 
sorroiCj love and hatredy^fWulation and conte 

Joy is an elation ef the mind, arising froq^va sense 
of some present 'good. Such a reflection^ Naturally 
creates a pleasant and agreeable sensation^ which ends 
in a delightful calm and serenity. This is heightened 
by a description of former evils, and a comparison 
between them and the present felicity. Thus Cicero A 
endeavours to excite in the minds of his fellow citizens \: 
the highest sense of joy and delight at Catiline's de- 
parture from RoJBe^ by representing to them the im- 



i. 



im£TORIGAL GRAMMAR. 373 

minent daager which threatened both them and ^e 
eity^ while he continued among them. 

Sorrow^ on the contrary^ is an uneasiness of mind^ 
arising from a sense of some present evil. This pas* 
sion has generally a place in funeral discourses^ and 
it may be heightened like the former by comparison^ 
when any past happiness is set in opposition to a 
present calamity. Hence Cicero aggravates the sor- 
row at Rome^ occasioned by the death of Metellus^ 
from his character and great services to the public 
while living. 

Love excites us to esteem another for some excel- 
lency, and to do him all the good in our power. It 
is distinguished from friendship, which is mutual ; 
and therefore love may continue where friendship is 
lost; that is^ the affection may remain on one side. 
And when we assist a person from no other motive, 
but to do him a kindness^ Aristotle calls this good 
will. Lave takes its rise from a variety of causes. 
Generosity, benevolence^ integrity^ gratitude^ courtesy^ 
and other social virtuej^ are great incitements to love 
any one endued with such qualities. And persons 
generally love those who are of a like disposition with 
themselves, and pursue the same views. It is there- 
fore the chief art of a flatterer, to suit himself in eve- 
ry thing to the inclinatioQ of the person whose good 
graces he courts. When the orator would excite this 
affection towards any person, it is proper to show that 
he is possessed of some, at least, if not all these agree- 
able qualities. When the conspirators qf Catiline 
were to be brought to justice, Cicero was very sensi- 
ble of the envy he should contract on that account, 
and how necessary it was for him to secure the love of 



374 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 

the Roman senate for his support and protection in that 
critical juncture. And this he endeavours to do in 
his fourth oration against Catiline^ by representing 
to them^ in the most pathetic manner^ that all the la- 
bours he underwent^ the dii&caities he conflicted with^ 
ai^d the dangers to which he was exposed on that ac- 
count, were not for his own sake^ but for their safety, 
quiet; and happiness. 

Hatred is opposed to love, and produced by the 
contrary dispositions. And therefore persons hate 
those who never did them any injury, from the ill 
opinioli they have of their base and vicious inclina- 
tions. So that the way to excite this passion is, by 
showing that any one has committed some heinou9 
fact with an ill intent. And the more nearly affected 
persons are by such actions, in what they account of 
the greatest concern, the higher in proportion their 
hatred rises. Since life therefore is esteemed the 
most valuable good, Cicero endeavours to render 
Mark Antony odious to the citizens of Rome, by de- 
scribing his cruelty. 

Emulation is a disquiet, occasioned by the felicity 
of another, not because he enjoys it, but because we 
desire»the like for ourselves. So that this passion is 
in itself good and laudable^ as it engages men to pur- 
sue those things which are so. For the proper ob- 
jects of emulation are any advantages of mind, body^ 
or fortune^ acquired by study or labour. And persons 
are generally excited to an emulation of those with 
whom they converse. So children are often ambi^ 
tious of the like virtues or honours which they see in 
their relations or friends. And therefore it was a 



UttETOHlCAL GRAMMAR. , 375 

very proper question of Andromache to ^neas^ con- 
cerning Ascanius^ which we have in Virgil : 

" What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years ? 
How much of Hector'i soul in him appearil'* 

Emulation therefore is excited by a lively representa- 
tiou of any desirable advantages^ which appear to be 
attainable from the example of others who are, or 
have been, possessed of them. But where the felici- 
ty of another occasions an uneasiness, not from the 
want of it^ but because he enjoys it^ this passion is 
called envy ; which the ancients describe as a hideous 
monster^ feeding upon itself, and being its own tor- 
mentor. Aristotle observes, that it roost usually afTects 
such persons who were once upon a level with those 
they envy. For most men naturally think so well of 
themselves^ that they are uneasy to see those who 
were formerly their equals advanced above them. But 
as this is a base and vicious passion, the orator is not 
to be informed how to excite it, but how to lessen or 
remove it. And the method prescribed by Cicero for 
this purpose is^ to show that the things which occa- 
sioned it have not happened to the envied person un- 
ileservedly^ but are the just reward of his industry or 
virtue ; that he does not so much convert them to his 
own profit or pleasure^ a$ to the benefit of others ; 
and the same pains and difficulties are necessary to 
preserve them, With which they were at first acquired. 
Contempt is opposed to Emulatum^ and arises from 
misconduct in things not of themselves vicious : as 
where a person either acts below his station and char- 
acter ; or aficcts to do that for which he is not quali- 
fied. Thus Cicero endeavours to expose Csciliucs, 
and bring him into the contempt of the court, for pre- 



367 KHETORICAL^ «&AlUiAR« 

tending to rival him in the acci|sation of Verres, fior 
which he was altogether unfit. 

To deliberative discourses may be referred^/eor^ h>ape, 
and shame. 

Fear arises from the apprehension of some great 
and impending evil. For the greatest evils, while 
they appear at a distance, do n^ much affect us. 
Such persons occasion fear, who are possessed of pow« 
er, especially if they have been injured^ or apprehend 
so. Likewise those who are addicted to do injuries^ 
or who bear us an ill will. And^the examples of oth- 
ers, who have suffered in a like case, or from the 
same persons, help to excite fear. From the circum- 
stances therefore either of the thing, or person, it wiU 
not be difficult for the orator to offer such argumenls 
as may be proper to awaken this passion. So DeiBoa- 
thenes, when he would persuade the Athenians to put 
themselves in a condition of defence against king Phil- 
ip, enumerates the several acts of hostility already 
committed by him against the neighbouring states. 
And because men's private concerns generally more 
affect them than what relates to the public^ it is proper 
sometimes to show the necessary connexion these 
have with each other, and how tiie ruin of one draws 
the other after it. 

The contrary passion to fear is hope, which arise% 
either from a prospect of some ftiture good^ or the 
apprehension of safety from those things which occa- 
sion our fear. Young persons are easily induced to 
hope the best, from the vigour of their spirits. And 
those who have escaped former dangers are encour- 
aged to hope for the like happy success for the future. 
The examples of others also, especially of wise and 



RmaTORICAL GBAUMAR. 377 

cimsiderate men^ have often the same good effect 
* To find them calm and sedate^ when exposed to the 
like dangers^ naturally creates confidence^ and the 
hopes of safety. But nothing gives persons such firm* 
nes9 and steadiness of mind, under the apprehension 
of any difficulties^ as a consciousness of their own in- 
tegrity and innocence. Let dangers come from what 
quarter they will, they are best prepared to receive 
them. They can calmly view an impending tempest, 
observe the way of its approach, and prepare them- 
selves in the best manner to avoid it. In Cicero's 
oration for the Manilian law, he eiltourages the Ro- 
man citizens to hope for success against Mithridates, 
if they choose Pompey fok* their general, from the 
many instances of his former successes, which he 
there enumerates. We find in history that artful men 
have frequently made use of omens and prodigies with 
the populace, either to awaken or expel their fears, 
and that with the greatest success. But such argu- 
ments are not much regarded by wise and prudent 
men. In the time of the civil wars between CsBsar 
and Pompey, when the affairs of Pompey's party were 
very much broken and shattered, one who was in that 
interest endeavoured to animate the rest and excite 
them to push on the war with vigour, from a lucky 
omen (as it was then thought) of seven eagles, which 
were observed to settle in their camp. But Cicero, 
who was then present, and knew very well the vanity 
of such reasoning, immediately replied : That such a 
happy incident might indeed prove of service to them if 
they were to fight with jackdaws. 

Shame arises from the apprehension of those things 
that hurt a person's character. Modesty has been wisely 



378 RHETORICAL GRAUflfAR. 

implanted in mankind by the great Author of nature 
as a guardian of virtue, which ought for this reason 
to be cherished with the greatest care ; because, as 
Seneca has well observed, if it be once lost^ it is scarce 
ever to he recovered. Therefore the true cause or foun- 
dation of shame is any thing base or vicious : for this 
wounds the character, and will not bear reflection. 
And he must arrive at no small degree of insensibility 
who can stand against such a charge, if he be con- 
scious to himself that it is just^ Therefore to deter 
persons from vicious actions, or to expose them for the 
commission of them, the orator endeavours to set them 
in such a light as may most awaken this passion, and 
give them the greatest uneasiness by the reflection. 
And because the bare representation of the thing itself 
is not always sufficient for this purpose, he sometimes 
enforces it by enlarging the view, and introducing 
those persons as witnesses of the fact, for wliom they 
are supposed to have the greatest regard. Thus when 
some of the Athenians, in an arbitration about certain 
lands which had been referred to them by the contend- 
ing parties, proposed it as the shortest way of decid- 
ing the controversy, to take the possession of them 
into their own hands, Cydias, a member of the assem- 
bly, to dissuade them from such an unjust action, de- 
sired them to imagine themselves at that time in the 
general assembly of the states of Greece (who would 
all hear of it shortly) and then consider how it was 
proper to act. But where persons labour under an 
excess of modesty, which prevents them from exerting 
themselves in things fit and laudable, it may sometimes 
be necessary to show that it is faulty and ill grounded. 
On the other hand, immodesty or impudence, which 



RHBTORICAL GRAMMAR. 379 

cpnsists in a contempt of such thiags as afiSect the rep- 
utation^ can never be too much discouraged and expos- 
ed. And the way of doing this is to make use of such 
arguments as are most proper to excite shame. We 
have a very remarkable instance of it in Cicero's sec- 
ond Philippic^ wherein he affixes this character upon 
Mark Antony, through every scene of his life. 

I come now to those passions which may be refer- 
red to judicial discourses ;-^and these are atiger and 
knity<, pity and indignation. 

Anger is a resentment, occasioned by some affront 
or injury done without any just reason. Now men 
are more inclined to resent such a conduct, as they 
think they less deserve it Therefore persons of dis- 
tinction and figure, who expect a regard should be 
paid to their character, can the less bear any indica- 
tions of contempt. And those who are eminent in 
any profession or faculty are apt to be offended, if re- 
flections are cast either upon their reputation or art. 
Magistrates also, and persons in public stations, some- 
times think it incumbent on them to resent indignities, 
for the support of their office. But nothing sooner 
inflames this passion, than if good services are reward- 
ed with slights and neglect. The instance of Nar- 
sites, the Roman general, is remarkable in this kind ; 
who, after he had been very successful in his wars 
with the Goths, falling under the displeasure of the 
emperor Justin, was removed from the government of 
Italy, and received by the empress with this taunt : 
Tliat he must he sent to weave among the girls : which 
so provoked him, that he said he would weave such a 
web as they should never be able to unravel. And 

accordingly he soon after brought down the Longo- 

48 



3d0 RHETORICAL GUAMMAK. 

bards^ a |>eople of Germany, into Italy^ where they 
settled themselves in that part of the country which^ 
from them^ is now called Lombardy. The time and 
place in which an injury was done^ and other circum- 
stances that attended it^ may likewise contribute very 
much to heighten the fact Hence Demosthenes^ in 
his oration against Midias^ Endeavours to aggravate 
the injury of being struck by him^ both as he was then 
a magistrate^ and because it was done at a public fes- 
tival. From hence it appears^ that the persons who 
most usually occasion this passion are such who neg- 
lect the rules of decency^ contemn and insult othersy 
or oppose their inclination ; as likewise the ungrate- 
ful^ and those who violate the ties of friendship, or 
requite favours with injuries. But when the orator 
endeavours to excite anger^ he should be careful not 
to exceed due bounds in aggravating the charge, lest 
what he says appear rather to proceed from prejudice, 
than a strict regard to the demerit of the action. 

Lenity is the remission of anger. The designs of 
men's actions are principally to be regarded ; and there- 
fore what is ignorantly, or through inadvertency, is soon- 
er forgiven. Also to acknowledge a fault, submit, and 
ask pardon, are the ready means to take off resent- 
ment ; for a generous mind is soon cooled by submis*- 
sion. Besides he who repents of his fault does really 
give the injured party some satisfaction, by punishing 
himself, as all repentance is attended with grief and 
uneasiness of mind; and this is apt very much to 
abate the desire of revenge : as, on the contrary, 
nothing 4s more provoking than when the offender 
either audaciously justifies the fact, or confidently 
denies it Men are likewise wont to lay aside their 



X 



RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* 381 

resentment^ when their adversaries happen by some 
other means to suffer what they think a sufficient sat- 
isfaction. Lastly^ easy circumstances^ a lucky inci- 
dent^ or any thing which givea the mind a turn to 
mirth and pleasure^ has a natural tendency to remove 
anger : for anger is accompanied with pain and un- 
easiness, which very ill suit joy and cheerrulness. 
The orator therefore^ in order to assuage and pacify 
the minds of his auditors^ will endeavour to lessen 
their opinion of the faulty and by that means to take 
off the edge of their resentment. And to this purpose^ 
it will be proper either to represent^ that the thing 
was not designed^ or that the party is sorry for it ; 
or to mention his former services ; as also to show the 
credit and reputation which will be gained by a gen- 
erous forgiveness. And this last topic is very artful- 
ly wrought up by Cicero^ in his address to Cesar^ in 
favour of Ligarius. 

Pity arises from the calamities of others^ by reflect- 
ing that we ourselves are liable to the like misfortunes. 
So that evils, considered as the common lot of human 
nature, are principally the cause of pity. And this 
makes the difference between pity and good willy which, 
as I have shown already, arises merely from a regard 
to the circumstances of those who want our assistance. 
But considering the uncertainty of every thing about^ 
us^ he must seem in a manner divested of humanity;^ 
who has no compassion for the calamities of others ; 
since there is no affliction, which happens to any man, 
but either that, or some other as great, may fall upon 
himself. But those persons are generally soonest 
touched with this passion who have met with mis- 
fortunes themselves. . And by how much greater 



382 RHETORICAL GRAMlIAR. ^ 

er the distress is^ or the person appears less deserr- 
ing it^ the higher pity does it excite ; for which rea- 
son persons are generally most moved at the mtsfiar- 
tunes of their relations and friends^ or those of the best 
figure and character. The orator therefore^ in order 
to excite the greater pity, will endeavour to hei^ten 
the idea of the calamity, from the several circumstan- 
ces both of the thing itself, and the pers'on who labours 
under it A fine example of this may be seen in Cic- 
ero's defence of Murasna. 

Indignation, as opposed to piiyy is an uneasiness at 
the felicity of another, who does not seem to dese^rve 
it. But this respects only external advantages^ sueb 
as riches, honours, and the like ; for virtues cannot 
be the object of this passion. Aristotle therefore says^ 
that pity and indignation are generally to be foutid in 
the same persons j and are both evidences of a good dis-^ 
position. Now the orator excites this passion^ by 
showing the person, to be unworthy of that felicity 
which he enjoys. And as, in order to move compas- 
^on, it is sometimes of use to compare the former 
happy state of the person with his present calamity, 
SO here the greater indignation is raised,. by compar- 
ing his former mean circumstances with his present 
advancement : as Cicero does in the case of Vatinius. 

These are the passions with which an orator is 
principally concerned. In addressing to which, not 
only the greatest warmth and force of expression is 
often necessary, but he must likewise first endeavour 
to impress his ~ own mind with the same passion he 
would excite in others, agreeably to that of Horace : 

My grief with others' just proportion bears ; 
To make me weep, you must be fir&t in tearr, . 



BHKTORICAL GRAMMAR. 383 

Thus far the learned Professor Ward on that part 
of oratory called invention ; in which we perceive he 
has followed the ancients^ step by step, but not with- 
out several judicious observations of his own. On all 
subjects that do not admit of experiment or demon- 
stration^ I own I am a great friend to authority : and 
when the ancients unanimously, and almost all the 
moderns down to Priestley and Ward, recommend the 
topics or common places, I cannot think they can be 
unworthy of attention. Let those who do not feel 
themselves in want of such assistance enjoy their supe- 
riority, and leave the less gifted part of their species 
to such resourses as are suited to the mediocrity of 
their abilities. This part of rhetoric, therefore, which 
ought to have been the first, is reserved to the last, 
that the student, if he pleases, may more easily omit 
the perusal of it. 

FINIS. 



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